The Madness of the Night
by Miss Belle Sutcliff
Summary: I'm willing to bet that you thought my story was over, that I had died with the Opera Populaire. God would've been merciful if he'd allowed me to die. But when has God ever favored monsters? Erik/OC (Book Two of Three) Warning: Character death
1. Prologue

The Madness of the Night

Prologue

I sometimes wonder what he was thinking the night of the masquerade, if he planned to betray me like that, or if he saw her and it just happened. Did he regret it or was he glad he did it? Did he even realize what he'd done?

Of course he did. He knows the gravity of everything he does. Though he could've never predicted the ultimate outcome of choosing Christine that night.


	2. Chapter 1: Trying to Forget

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 1: Trying to Forget

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, guys. Also, this is actually pretty IMPORTANT. I accidentally posted an old draft of TMOTN, and I only realized it about a week ago. It's just been changed, so please go back and read that before reading chapter one. :)**

 **Also, the chapters will start with the location, year, and the POV, as things will get a little jumpy.**

 **Special thanks to IKhandoZatman, enigmantic, Adelaide Destler, Ninja Kitty 101, ShebblePebble13, phanfin, SarahBloomSakura, iwillalwayslvu123, loveneverdies115, BellaGirl7, michellecarriveau, The Captains Muse, and Teelahey for following TMOTN,**

 **To grapejuice101, hrodenhaver, Adelaide Destler, Ninja Kitty 101, phanfin, SarahBloomSakura, loveneverdies115, BellaGirl7, michellecarriveau, and The Captains Muse for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **To Sketch1997 for following me,**

 **And to grapejuice101, Adelaide Destler, michelle carriveau, Phantom24601, and to loveneverdies115 for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Thank you!**

 **Adelaide Destler: I just want to say how much your review made me crack up! XD I love _Lion King._ Did you really think I will kill my OC so soon in the series?**

 **michellecarriveau: Here ya go!**

 **Phantom24601: First of all, I love the name. :) Second, I really hope the actual prologue is better. That was from an earlier draft. It sucks, and it no longer pertains to the story.**

 **loveneverdies115: Yep. I love Erik/Marie too much to leave it there.**

(Paris, 1882-Marie's POV)

I don't think I ever truly recovered after the masquerade, after the Opera Populaire burned to the ground, after the Terror. Not until I came back to _him_ …

"Marie," Christine whispered. I looked at her tiredly. We shared an understanding, just as Raoul and Alexandre did. We were the princesses who were taken by the evil wizard, and they were the princes who came to save us. "I have something important to tell you. You can't tell anyone." Months had passed since the Opera Populaire had burned to the ground, but none of us could forget him.

"Who would I tell?" I scoffed. I suddenly felt like a child again, gossiping with my best friend.

"I…I'm going to be a mother." I gasped, a smile spreading across my face. I hadn't smiled in a long time.

"Christine, that's wonderful! Does Raoul know?" I asked, squeezing her hand. She shook her head. She looked…terrified.

Raoul and Christine had gotten married almost immediately after Mother, Meg, Nichole, and _he_ had fled to God knows where. I wasn't ready to marry, not with everything that had happened. Wounds needed to heal before I could even think about marrying.

"No, not yet. I don't know how to tell him. Marie, I'm not sure…" she trailed off, playing with her brown curls awkwardly.

"You're not sure of what? He'll be elated!"

"I'm not sure it's his." My jaw dropped. "Erik…" The sound of his name made my heart break all over again. But the shock outweighed my pain.

"Christine!" I gasped. "What have you done?"

"I…You can't tell him. For God's sake, don't tell him or Alexandre." I nodded.

"I won't. I swear." One more betrayal. One more betrayal before you left me. You couldn't help yourself, could you? "I'm so sorry." She shook her head.

I rarely spoke to anyone besides Christine. She'd been able to move on more easily.

I didn't love _him._ Not after everything that had happened, not after the Terror, and especially not after this new piece of information. But he had hurt me. And the hurt was still there.

"I can't be sure…"

"I can help…"

"Christine!" said Raoul, walking into the room. She looked panicked.

"Raoul," she started.

"Christine, we must go, or we'll be late for supper." He was good for Christine. He was exactly what she needed after such an ordeal. Safety, shelter, warmth…all the things that _he_ wasn't. Like Alexandre was for me.

Alexandre was there for me when I needed him, but he left me alone when I wanted to be alone.

"My apologies, Marie. Do join us for tea sometime soon," Christine said quietly, standing from the sofa in the Parisian flat in which Alexandre and I lived. With the money I earned from when I was prima donna, I was able to rent a nice flat in a great part of town. We didn't want to stay in Paris for very long, but we didn't have enough money to go anywhere else.

We would've lived in separate flats as well, but we didn't have enough money for that either. Not that either of us minded.

I nodded.

"Goodbye, Christine. Vicomte," I said, standing also. They left quickly, leaving me alone to drink my tea. It was a recipe Nadir had given me. It had been _his_ favorite, originating from Russia. Of course, Alexandre didn't know that part. He'd simply have a fit if he did.

"Marie," said the quiet voice of Alexandre. He wanted to marry me so badly. But I just wasn't ready for it. I knew, improper though it was, Alexandre was content with merely courting me and living with me. Even though I had to wear a mask…

My face had been burned in the fire only a few months ago. It wasn't near as bad as it could've been, and in a few years, the scars might not be that noticeable. Perhaps I could go outside without that damned mask. It rubbed my face in such awkward ways…

"Marie," he said again, wrapping his arms around my small waist. "You have to eat something. You're so very thin." I admittedly hadn't been eating much.

"I've always been thin. It's one of the many demands of being a ballerina," I said quietly.

"I haven't seen you eat in days."

"That doesn't mean I haven't been doing it."

"But you haven't."

"No, I haven't."

"Perhaps you should." Perhaps…Perhaps I should do a lot of things. Perhaps I should let _him_ go. Perhaps I should marry Alexandre. Perhaps I should-

"Marie?" Alexandre's voice brought me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Of course. I'm fine."

"You miss him, don't you?" Despite everything, I did. I missed his gentle but intimidating voice. I missed the haunting melodies that came from it. I missed the feeling of his fingers entwined in mine. I missed Ayesha. I missed Nadir. I missed his pipe organ, and I missed the sheet music that covered it. I missed everything about him and everything that came with him. But I couldn't admit it. Not to Alexandre, and not to myself.

"I try every day to forget him, to forget everything that happened, but I can't," I replied softly as he rested his head on my shoulder. "He's a part of me now. I can't change that."

"That didn't answer my question." I removed myself from his embrace, turning to face him.

"I don't know! Sometimes, I hear his music and I'm quite sure it's driving me mad!" I cried. He pulled me tightly to his chest.

"I shouldn't have mentioned him. I'm sorry," he said sadly, stroking my hair. I always found that soothing when Alexandre did it. "You say you hear his music?" I nodded.

"It's like he's only a few feet away playing on his organ. I swear I can hear him sing, but when I turn, there's no one there. I simply must be going mad."

"You're not going mad," he said, almost as if assuring himself rather than me. "Anyone in your position would think like that. Christine does." Christine had admitted to hearing his music, his voice sometimes. Perhaps we were both mad.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"For what?" he asked.

"Staying with me through all of this. Though I don't know why."

"I love you, Marie. That's why." He kissed the top of my head.

"I love you too."

* * *

 **Author's Note: I hope you guys like it, and again, I'm sorry for the wait. If you have any suggestions, critiques, or anything you just want to praise me for, REVIEW!**

 **And if I didn't give you a shout out where one should've been, I'm sorry. I tried to get them all. PM me, and I'll put you in the next one. :)**


	3. Chapter 2: Loss

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 2: Loss

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the lateness. I really have no legitimate reason except that I'm lazy.**

 **Special thanks to 2 and mangadragon10122 for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, and loveneverdies115 for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Chill out! Here it is! ;) Erik is so sorry! He doesn't mean to!**

 **michellecarriveau: I have a love/hate relationship with LND. Love the music, (mostly) hate the story. So, I will be changing it...a lot. And thank you very much! Trust me, I did. Fanfiction, Netflix, and Nutella...That should so be a book.**

 **loveneverdies115: Who said they'd see each other again? Just kidding. I couldn't live with myself if I did that. Marie/Erik makes me happy.**

* * *

(Coney Island, 1882-Erik's POV)

 _I stood by my organ, tapping my fingers lightly against the keys, not quite hard enough to produce sound. The only thing I could think about was Marie. Her smile, her eyes, her hair…_

" _Erik," called that sweet, familiar voice. No, it couldn't be._

 _I turned to see my lovely Marie, white flowers in her blonde hair. She donned a beautiful white gown and wore no shoes. She looked absolutely gorgeous, her pale skin glowing in the candlelight._

" _Marie," I whispered. "I thought you were…" She silenced me, pressing her index finger against my lips._

" _I'm here," she said. I ran my fingers through her hair, pulling her closer to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I placed my hands on her waist and closed my eyes._

" _You were dead. You…"_

" _Shh. It's alright."_

" _I love you," I said, pressing my lips against hers. Her hand ran up my neck, through my hair, resting on the back of my head. Then something in the air shifted._

 _I opened my eyes to see that Marie was on fire. Her gown burned until it became a black and red mess that barely reached her knees._

" _You let me die, Erik," she said, her tone emotionless. I tried to move, to run, to help her, to do_ anything, _but I was paralyzed. I could only watch in horror as her flesh melted. I closed my eyes once more, not able to watch. "Why did you let me die?" I heard a sickening clatter, and I forced my eyes open, looking down. Marie was gone, but her bones lay in a pile on the stone floor. Two empty sockets stared up at me._

I awoke, sweat covering my body. I ran a hand through my hair. It was just a dream. Just another terrible dream.

But it wasn't.

Marie Giry died on February 21, 1882. It was painless, of course. She seemed to be simply sleeping, as if she would wake up and kiss me once more. But that would never happen. Her blue eyes would never open. She would never sing again, never laugh, never speak. And it was my fault.

Alexandre Levesque told Antoinette of her untimely demise. She informed Meg and me, as well as that stupid girl Marie had taken such a liking to. Nichole Edwards reminded me of Marie in so many ways, and yet, they were so different.

We left before the funeral took place. They had helped me flee Paris. They brought me to America, where I would be safe. And now they were helping me make my dream a reality. God knows why. It was because of me their daughter, their sister, their friend was gone.

" _Why did you let me die?"_

I'm sorry, Marie! If I had only known…

You deserved so much better than me. Levesque could've taken better care of you than I would have. Than I did. You could have lived a long, happy life with him. But I was greedy. You saw past the monster, and when I realized that, I wanted you for myself.

But you wanted me too. You chose me over that boy. You needed me. And I betrayed you for a woman who didn't love me in return. I don't think I can ever forgive myself for that. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry…

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the shortness and possible crappiness of this chapter. I'm running on four hours of sleep, and today's been rather eventful.**

 **ALSO: 'Love Never Dies' takes place ten years after POTO. I'm making it five to make my life slightly easier.**

 **ANOTHER THING: Alexandre gets a lot of hate. I honestly don't mind him that much (except for when I'm trying to write Erik/Marie and he's yelling at me the whole time-yes, I hear my characters' voices sometimes), but you all seem to hate him. Surely not _all_ of you want to kill him with your homemade Punjab lassos (am I the only one?). Either way, visit my profile and answer my question by doing the poll. I MUST KNOW!**

 **Love,**

 **The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	4. Chapter 3: A Wealthy Man Indeed

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 3: A Wealthy Man Indeed

 **Author's Note: I had a terrible case of writer's block, which my awesome grandma helped me through-thank you, Granny! A million apologies to you all!**

 **Special thanks to Zzoe987, JJAndrews, and SailorSedna052 for following TMOTN,**

 **to ImagineDaydreams and SailorSedna052 for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, and ImagineDaydreams for reviewing TMOTN,**

 **to Zzoe987 and SailorSedna052 for following me,**

 **and finally to Zzoe987, michellecarriveau, and SailorSedna052 for favoriting me!**

 **grapejuice101: I can promise one of those for sure. The other...I dunno yet. Maybe. :)**

 **michellecarriveau: Erik's in for a whirlwind of emotions. ;) Ha! That's not gonna happen anytime soon. Alexandre's here to stay (for now).**

 **ImagineDaydreams: Every man is a peasant compared to Erik. :P**

* * *

(Paris, 1883-Marie's POV)

Things were going rather well for Alexandre and me. Six months had passed and I was almost completely back to normal. Memories of _him_ still lingered, but I was able to push them to the back of my mind. Alexandre still wanted me to marry him, and I still wasn't ready. I was beginning to doubt I'd ever be ready.

Christine had gained much weight in those six months. If that's what pregnancy does to you, I want no part in it! But God love her. She was absolutely terrified of giving birth to this child, and I couldn't blame her at all.

One thing that was a cause of stress for both Alexandre and me was money. The money I saved from my time as prima donna was running out quickly, despite only renting the flat and buying food. Alexandre was desperately searching for a job, but no one seemed to be hiring.

Alexandre didn't seem like himself, though. He was distant, and he was barely eating or sleeping. When I asked him if anything was wrong, he simply laughed and asked what would make me think such a thing. I didn't think he'd lie to me, but I had my suspicions.

"Marie!" called Alexandre. He'd been gone that day, leaving me alone to read. I was growing quite bored with my limited library, but we didn't have money to spare for books. "I have great news!"

"What is it, darling?" I asked, marking my page in the book I was reading. It was an idiotic romance novel that was not at all accurate. The author didn't have the slightest clue what it was like to be in love.

"My parents died!" he exclaimed, smiling. My eyebrows furrowed. "They died in a fire at their house yesterday!"

"Are you feeling alright, dear?" I asked, standing up. I felt his forehead with the back of my hand. "You feel warm."

"Don't be silly, Marie! I'm fine!" He looked like he realized something. "Oh! I don't suppose I told you. My parents were quite wealthy. Since I was their only child, I inherited their wealth, business, and countryside estate when they died."

"Are you sure you're alright?" He sighed.

"You know how I feel about them. After everything they put me through…" He trailed off, the smile eventually returning to his face. I had always found it so strange that a man who loved so easily hated two people so much. "We can leave Paris. We can go anywhere in the world. We can…" He leaned down to kiss me.

"Slow down, darling!" I placed my hands on his chest, pushing him just far enough so that he wouldn't make contact.

"I only have to find someone to manage the vineyard and buy the countryside estate, unless of course, you want to just live there. But we don't have to. We can go anywhere you want. All you have to do is say the word." He moved my hands, entwining his fingers in mine.

"Like you said, _we_ have to find someone to manage the…You own a vineyard?" He shrugged.

"Apparently I do now. What's wrong?" I shook my head.

"Nothing. I just…" I trailed off.

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you really want me in this new life you're building?" I asked, biting my lip. I didn't deserve him. He couldn't ever have a totally normal life if I was with him. An ugly girl…

"What are you talking about? Of course! Why would you think I wouldn't?"

"I…My face…" He silenced me with a kiss.

"Do you really think _that_ would make me stop loving you? Marie, if I didn't love you, if I didn't want to be with you forever, I wouldn't be here."

"Why do you love me?" He laughed.

"I love you because you make me smile." He pulled me over to the sofa, holding me against his chest. "I want to tell you something."

"What?" I asked, taking his hand.

"I was always attracted to you." I looked up at him. "When we were children at the Opera Populaire…"

"All the girls loved you. They were always flirting." He laughed.

"Not you. You just watched. As we got older, I knew I was in love. You were so beautiful, especially when you danced. Graceful, lovely, perfect…" I smiled.

"Don't flatter me, monsieur."

"I wanted to talk to you. But I was absolutely terrified. I had no clue what to say. But when you became prima donna, I knew I there would be plenty of suitors to steal your heart. I had to make my move then or never." He kissed the top of my head. "I curse myself for waiting so long. Perhaps if I'd acted sooner, _he'd_ have never been able to reach you." I stroked his cheek, letting him kiss me.

"He's gone now. Let's just forget. Please," I pleaded. He smiled gently.

"Of course." He paused. "When did you fall for me?"

"The moment I laid eyes on you." He chuckled.

"I doubt that."

"I did!" I laughed. "Me and every other girl there."

"You're exaggerating. Not _every_ girl."

"Every girl that I knew."

"That blew up my ego." I laughed.

"That's lovely. I suppose I truly fell in love with you when we first kissed." I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Marry me. Please." I closed my eyes. "We have the money for it now. Don't you want to be with me?"

"Of course! But I'm just not ready for marriage. Please don't force me into this."

"I'd never force you."

"Give me more time. Give me more time and I swear I'll marry you. Just not now." He kissed my cheek.

"I swore I'd wait for you for as long as it took. I'm not about to go back on my promise."

"I won't make you wait forever."

After that, things got very stressful for us. We had the money we needed, but Alexandre was having trouble selling the estate his parents left behind, as well as finding someone to manage the vineyard. We both wanted to leave Paris, but we couldn't until that was done.

We were also unsure of where to go. It would be our luck that _he_ would be there. Alexandre assured me that it wouldn't be a problem, that the world was too big for him to find us. I knew he was right, but I couldn't shake the bad feeling that slowly grew inside me. I had a feeling there was something he wasn't telling me, but I let it go. It was probably for the best if he didn't think I needed to hear it. I trusted him with everything.

We eventually decided to keep the countryside estate, in case we ever wanted to return to France. Alexandre had begged me to move in there with him, but I chose to stay in my flat while he lived there.

"This is becoming rather tiresome," Alexandre said one day when he came to my flat after another futile attempt to find management for the vineyard. I was inclined to agree, but I wouldn't tell him that.

"I'm sure someone will come along soon enough, darling," I said as I ran my fingers across the piano keys. I was elated when we had been able to buy one. My favorite pastimes were reading and playing. I didn't dare sing; what if _he_ heard?

"I'm beginning to doubt it," he said, sitting on the bench next to me. "Where did you learn to play?"

"My father taught me before he died."

"I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"I was five." He brushed the hair from my face, stroking it gently. He rested his head on my shoulder.

"Play something for me." I adjusted my mask before placing my hands on the keys. I felt him begin to untie the mask.

"Alexandre…"

"I love you, Marie."

"I love you too, but don't…"

"I want to see you." I felt him kiss my scarred cheek. "Not a mask." Why did he stay with me?

I played a melody that just came to mind.

"That was beautiful," he said, kissing me again. "What was it?"

"Nothing, really. Just a song in my head."

"Why don't you sing anymore? You have such a lovely voice."

"I don't think so."

"Are you alright? You seem upset."

"I'm fine, dear. I'm just tired."

"Too tired to join me for supper tonight?" he asked with a smile. "At the countryside estate, of course."

"It would be my pleasure to join you, darling." I wrapped my arms around his neck. His were around my waist. Our lips met in another gentle kiss.

It was amazing to be in love, I learned. Unfortunately, love and pain go together.

* * *

 **Author's Note: On that ominous note, I end the chapter.**

 **I am so sorry, guys! It's been over a week since I last updated. I feel terrible!**

 **So, I haven't yet included a song. The thing is, I don't really know what to use. Do you have any suggestions? If so, please PM me or leave it in a review. I'd prefer it to be from a musical. Thanks, guys!**

 **Love,**

 **The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	5. Chapter 4: Missing You

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 4: Missing You

 **Author's Note: Here you go, my friends! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101 and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: I might have to take you up on that in a few chapters! ;)**

 **michellecarriveau: Erik has about 6 chapters (five and a half?) until he sees Marie again, which in fanfic time is a couple years. 'Beauty Underneath' will probably happen, but I'm not sure yet.**

* * *

(Coney Island, 1883-Erik's POV)

One year had quickly passed since that dreadful night. It felt like it was only yesterday when I was holding her, kissing her.

"Heya, toots!" called that idiot girl we had brought to New York. She was talking to Meg, I believe.

"Don't call me that," replied Meg sourly. They hated each other, but tried to be civil for _her_ sake. Even though _she_ wasn't here. "What is it?"

"Ya know that guy Marie liked so much?" she asked. I stiffened at the sound of her name. Meg scowled.

"Don't say her name. What about him?"

"His parents just died and he got their cash," she said. "An' he's movin' ta England. Bringing a girl with him too." My head snapped up.

"What?" I asked venomously.

"Good for him," Meg said with uncaring indifference.

"Says here he brought a woman with him. They was seen kissin' and holdin' each other and stuff." I balled my hands into fists.

"How can he move on so quickly?!" I shouted.

"He's a free man, sir," said Meg. "He can do whatever he wishes. Besides, it's been a year and a half. I don't think _she_ would want us crying for her forever."

I was furious. That _boy_ never truly loved her if he had a new woman so fast. He never deserved her…

But neither did I. Marie Giry was too perfect for any man. Why she loved me, a monster, is completely beyond me.

I quickly left the room, entering my office. I needed morphine. It was the only thing that numbed the pain.

As I placed the tip of the needle against my arm, I hesitated. What would _she_ say?

Never mind that. She wasn't here anymore. She wouldn't _say_ anything _ever again._

I pushed down on the plunger, feeling the morphine overcome me.

" _Erik, put that needle down right now!"_

My head snapped up. There she was. Wearing the same white gown as before.

"Marie?" I reached out to touch her.

" _What have you done? Morphine. Are you mad?"_

"Y-You're here." She leaned down so that our eyes met. She caressed my unmarred cheek.

" _You are insane. Do you know that?"_

"Are you real?"

" _As real as the morphine you just put into your body."_

"But you're dead."

" _You'll be dead if you keep that up."_ She gestured to the syringe. I attempted to hold her hand, perhaps even to kiss her, but the instant I made contact, she disappeared.

"No…" I muttered. "No, Marie…Marie, where are you?" I fell from my chair to my knees, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Marie…" Just a hallucination. She wasn't real anymore.

" _The day starts. The day ends._

 _Time crawls by._

 _Night steals in, pacing the floor._

 _The moments creep, yet I can't bear to sleep_

 _Till I hear you sing."_

She was back. I knew it. I felt her arms around me.

" _And weeks pass, and months pass._

 _Seasons fly._

 _Still you don't walk through the door._

 _And in a haze, I count the silent days_

 _Till I hear you sing once more._

 _And sometimes in darkness,_

 _I dream that you are there,_

 _But wake holding nothing but the cold, night air._

 _And years come, and years go._

 _Time runs dry._

 _Still I ache deep in my core._

 _My broken soul can't be alive or whole_

 _Till I hear you sing once more."_

I felt her kiss my cheek. Then she was gone.

" _And music, your music,_

 _It teases at my ear._

 _I turn and it fades away,_

 _And you're not here!_

 _Let hopes pass! Let dreams pass!_

 _Let them die!_

 _Without you, what are they for?_

 _I'll always feel no more than halfway real_

 _Till I hear you sing once more!"_

How was I supposed to go on without her? And how was I supposed to live with that guilt? "I looked at the painting of Marie that hung on the wall. I painted it shortly after we came to Coney Island. In the portrait, she was happy. Full of life and beauty.

"Erik," said her mother. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Leave me!"

"You look awful."

"Thank you for your kind words as always, madam." I was in no mood for her ramblings. "Is there something you want?"

"Meg is going on in ten minutes. Are you going to watch?" I sighed.

"Not this time." She burst into a coughing fit. "Are you alright."

"Why wouldn't I be?" she croaked.

"Goodbye, Antoinette." She sighed and left.

My Marie. Lost and gone.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I kinda forgot to say this before, but I'm not following canon as well as I did in TDOTN. For example, instead of ten years passing, I'm making it five. I'm also *THE REST OF THIS SENTENCE WAS CENSORED DUE TO SPOILERS*. So Gustave will be about 4-5.**

 **I'm like, six hours away from where I live at a family reunion, and I don't have my laptop, and I'm typing the author's notes on my Nook, and it sucks. On the bright side, I went to Build-A-Bear (judge all you want, I don't care), and now own an adorable bear named Erik. I also am now the proud owner of a OUAT Captain Hook fleece blanket. Yeah. Totally worth it.**

 **Still taking song suggestions.**

 **Love,**

 **The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	6. Chapter 5: The Next Ten Minutes

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 5: The Next Ten Minutes

 **Author's Note: It's good to be home. I love home. Home is good.**

 **Special thanks to Princess Serenity Angel for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101 and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Till I Hear You Sing is my absolute favorite song from LND. Especially when Ramin sings it.**

 **michellecarriveau: I visualize Gerard Butler as Erik (at least in the musical) but hear Ramin's voice. He's the Phantom that sings songs in my head. ;) And I know right?! Emma, the Dark One? WHAT?!**

* * *

(London, 1884-Marie's POV)

Another peaceful year had come and gone. Christine had given birth to a lovely baby boy named Gustave. I was there for his birth. Christine had gripped my hand and begged me to take care of the child if she didn't make it.

" _Please, Marie," she had cried, "If I don't make it, promise me…promise me you'll take care of it. Promise me." I nodded._

" _Yes, Christine! I swear. But you're going to survive! Just a little more…"_

Needless to say, she didn't die. But the promise I made that day still stays true. I am the child's godmother.

And Gustave is certainly Erik's child. Even as an infant, he showed such promising musical potential. He has Erik's eyes too. Christine and I both knew it, but Raoul and Alexandre seemed utterly oblivious.

Several months before Gustave was born, we all made our move to England. Alexandre had given up and just sold the vineyard, and then we both learned English. Nichole had taught me a little, but it wasn't enough.

One thing that worried all of us was the Vicomte's newfound drinking problem. It had made him more irritable and angry. Alexandre and I worried that he would hurt Christine or Gustave one night.

Alexandre and I loved England. No one really knew us, and no one really asked questions. The best part was that my scars had healed much better than I thought they would. I barely had to wear my mask.

I had to change my name, though no one actually called me by it. No one who I cared about, anyway.

Adelaide Beaumont. It was the name I'd always wished I'd had.

"Oh, Marie," Alexandre said, following me onto the balcony of our beautiful English home. "I love you very much."

"I love you too."

" _Will you share your life with me_

 _For the next ten minutes,_

 _For the next ten minutes?_

 _We can handle that._

 _We could watch the waves,_

 _We could watch the sky,_

 _Or just sit and wait_

 _As the time ticks by._

 _And if we make it till then,_

 _Can I ask you again for another ten?"_

He pressed his chest against my back, arms around my waist. I kissed his jaw.

" _And if you, in turn, agree_

 _To the next ten minutes_

 _And the next ten minutes,_

 _Till the morning comes,_

 _Then just holding you_

 _Might compel me to ask you for more._

 _There are so many lives I want to share with you._

 _I will never be complete until I do."_

"I'm quite content here with you. But there is one thing missing," he said after finishing his song. I entwined his fingers in mine.

"And what is that?" I asked, turning around.

"A pair of rings."

" _I'm not always on time._

 _Please don't expect that from me._

 _I will be late,_

 _But if you can just wait,_

 _I will make it eventually."_

As I sang, Alexandre's eyes widened like saucers. He hadn't heard me sing in years.

" _Not like it's in my control,_

 _Not like I'm proud of the fact._

 _But anything other than being exactly on time_

 _I can do._

 _I don't know why people run._

 _I don't know why things fall through._

 _I don't know how anybody survives in this life_

 _Without someone like you._

 _I could protect and preserve._

 _I could say 'no' and 'goodbye.'_

 _But why, darling, why?"_

"What are we waiting for? Let's get married!" I exclaimed. He stared at me in shock.

"A-Are you serious?" he stammered. I nodded, kissing him.

" _I want to be your wife!_

 _I want to bear your child!_

 _I want to die knowing I_

 _Had a long, full life in your arms._

 _That I can do forever, with you."_

"Then we'll be married!" he said jovially, grabbing my waist, picking me up, and twirling me around in a full circle. I laughed. _"Will you share your life with me..."_

" _Forever."_

"… _For the next ten lifetimes…"_

" _Forever, darling…"_

" _For a million summers?"_

" _Till the world explodes,"_ we sang in unison. _"Till there's no one left who has ever known us apart!"_

" _There are so many dreams I need to see with you,"_ he sang softly in my ear.

" _There are so many years I need to be with you."_

" _I will never be complete…"_

" _I will never be alive…"_

" _I will never change the world until I do…"_

" _I do."_

" _I do."_

" _I do."_

" _I do."_ Our voices rang out on the final note. Alexandre placed a gentle kiss on my cheek before pulling a small black box from his coat pocket. He knelt down before me and opened the box.

"Marie Giry, will you marry me?" he asked, grinning. I smiled and nodded.

"Of course!" I pulled him to his feet and let him slide the ring the box contained onto my finger. He kissed me, holding my body tightly against his.

"As I've said countless times, I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Uh-oh. This ain't good.**

 **The song (and chapter title) are from the song 'The Next Ten Minutes' from 'The Last Five Years' by Jason Robert Brown. That man is a friggin genius. Anyway, if you haven't seen it, a movie of it just came out, with Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan as Kathy and Jamie. SO AMAZING! (^.^)**


	7. Chapter 6: Visions

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 6: Visions

 **Author's Note: I have writer's block so bad...I just...**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101 and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: It's not good at all.**

 **michellecarriveau: Ramin Karimloo is my wallpaper on my computer. It makes me happy to look at him every time I log on. Poor Gerard Butler. He tried. And hey, at least Merida's gonna be in OUAT. They better not give her a love interest. Watch them give her a love interest.**

* * *

(Coney Island, 1884-Erik's POV)

"That bastard is getting married!" I boomed, gripping the newspaper tightly. Antoinette pulled it from me before I tore it in two.

"Who?" Meg asked curiously.

"Levesque," I growled through gritted teeth. "Some woman named Adelaide Beaumont. How can he do this?"

"Why exactly do you care?" Antoinette asked, giving me a strange look. I paused. Why did I care? He could do whatever he wanted. But she loved him and he claimed to love her.

Why did she have to die? I would be able to function properly if she was with him, alive. But without her…I thought the pain would ease as time passed, but it's only gotten worse! I-

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud, painful-sounding cough. I looked at Antoinette, who was holding onto a chair to steady herself from falling. Meg ran to her mother's side, holding her up.

"Mother…?" she whispered worriedly.

"I'm fine, Meg. Just a cold. Get me some water." She hesitated, but quickly left the room.

"I'm afraid you're not telling me something," I said when the ballet mistress's daughter had gone. "Are you ill?"

"It's just a cold," she repeated. "It'll pass."

"Antoinette, you've had this 'cold' for nearly a year! What is actually going on?"

"I don't want Meg to know." I pulled out a chair, which she took.

"Then tell me. Perhaps I may be of assistance." She shook her head. "You're dying."

"I am an old woman," she started in between coughs. "My time is nearing. I have accepted my fate."

"You can't say that!" This wasn't like her! "Let me help…"

"Let it go, Erik. I am ready." She clutched the cross around her neck. "I'm ready to see Marie." Suddenly dying seemed a lot more appealing than it already was. "Just promise me you'll take care of Meg." I grasped her hand, nodding.

"I swear it." She nodded. Meg suddenly entered with a glass of water.

"Oh Mother, are you certain you're alright? Do I need to send for a doctor?"

"No, my child. I'll be fine. Go on. Prepare for your show. I'll be out in a moment." Antoinette took a long drink from the glass when Meg left again. There was a small bit of red in the glass when she set it down. 'I'd best be going. Shouldn't keep Meg waiting." All I could do was stare at that ominous red in an otherwise clear glass.

* * *

"Erik?" a small voice called just as I was about to put the needle in my arm. It almost sounded like…No. It was only Meg.

"Come in," I said as I set the needle down. "What is it, Miss Giry?" I asked, rubbing my temples. She stood before me with as much grace as her sister, her blue eyes glistening with tears. "What's wrong?"

"Mother's seriously ill, isn't she? I know she'd never admit it, but you…you can see things like that." I sighed.

"Your mother didn't want you to know. She's dying." Meg choked back a sob.

"Can you help her?"

"I probably could, but your mother doesn't want help. She's accepted that it's her time."

"But it's not! I still need her! I can't lose her!"

"She doesn't want you to know. Try to pretend like nothing is wrong. And spend as much time with her as possible. I'll try to examine her tomorrow, but I think she has about a year and a half left."

"How can you be so cold? Don't you care about her at all?"

"Of course I do! She was the only person I could trust for a long time. But I have different ways of grieving than you." She snorted.

"Like morphine?" With that, she stormed out of my office. Speaking of morphine…

It had been giving me hallucinations of _her,_ and though I knew they were only hallucinations, she seemed so real. She'd speak to me, she'd kiss me, she'd sometimes sing. The problem was that I couldn't touch her myself or she'd go away.

" _Erik…"_ I hadn't even felt the needle enter my flesh.

"Marie, how I've missed you!"

" _And I you. I wish you'd stop polluting your body with that horrid drug."_

"It's the only way I can see you." She pursed her full lips.

" _I think it's time for you to move on."_

"Like Monsieur Levesque?" I asked coldly. She ran a hand through my hair, instantly soothing me completely.

" _Alexandre is doing exactly what he should do-build a new life. He remembers me, but he doesn't let the grief consume him. Perhaps you should learn from him."_

"But if I do that…"

" _You'll be much happier. Change your focus. Christine is still alive…"_ I cut her off.

"The real Marie would _never_ say a thing like that. Leave me." She hesitated, but did as I commanded. Perhaps she was right.

Christine…

* * *

 **Author's Note: School is starting next week. I just...Why?**


	8. Chapter 7: Husband and Wife

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 7: Husband and Wife

 **Author's Note: And here we are. There is this small part of me that wants Marie and Alexandre to stay together (like, 10%). This is me getting that out of my system.**

 **Special thanks to Guest, Guest, grapejuice101, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Guest: A trailer for season 5 just came out and it's basically just Merida shooting her bow.**

 **Guest: Aw, yeah. Appearances don't matter to Alexandre, though he originally was attracted to Marie partially for her looks. Anywho, Killian is one of the few men who can get away with wearing guyliner. Love him!**

 **grapejuice101: I did it to save her character. Don't get me wrong, I like LND and all, but Madame Giry is my favorite character in POTO (besides Erik, of course). She was sort of turned into a screeching harpy. Though it could be the fact that she wears the same dress all the time.**

 **michellecarriveau: They're gonna bring back Neal eventually. I don't ship Neal/Merida. When I saw the 25th, I was like, "Ermagerd Ramin, please marry me!" I also sort of fell in love with Hadley.**

* * *

(Paris, 1885-Marie's POV)

Such a lovely thing it can be to be married to a man you love and loves you.

Alexandre and I were three months into our marriage and life couldn't possibly be better. We had a French bulldog named Nicolas, who was a very fat, and though I hated to admit it, very stupid puppy. Alexandre had wanted a dog, and though I was a bit reluctant to the idea of a dog at first, I soon warmed up to Nicolas.

"I swear, sometimes I think you love that dog more than me," huffed Alexandre as I intently pet Nicolas one night.

"Oh, really?" I asked, turning over to him. I nestled myself into Alexandre's warm embrace. I kissed him, caressing his cheek.

"Then you kiss me and I remember who truly has your heart." I smiled. Just then I felt an expectant lick on my shoulder. I picked up the dog and set him between Alexandre and me. Alexandre sighed again. "Here we go again," he said playfully. "Cuddling with that idiotic dog." I feigned a shocked gasp.

"He didn't mean that, baby!" I said to Nicolas, starching his head. "He's just jealous because I cuddle with you more than I cuddle with him." Nicolas rolled onto his back, making me smile. "He is so adorable."

"I hope that you're talking about me for once, instead of Nicolas." I rolled my eyes, the grin never leaving my face.

"Sure, I was!" I said sarcastically. He gave me a teasing look. "Alexandre, you are the single most _adorable,_ sweet, and handsome man I've ever met. And I love you very much." He smiled and kissed me again.

"I love you too. Never ever doubt that."

"I don't."

"Do you trust me?" he asked, brushing some stray curls out of my face.

"With my life." His face saddened slightly, almost in guilt. "Is there something wrong?"

"If I lied to protect you, would you be upset?"

"It depends. Why? Did you…?" He quickly shook his head.

"No. I was just wondering." He was definitely lying to me, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to care. If he lied to protect me, then he had my best interests in mind.

"Sometimes, I'm very afraid. Late at night." He sat up and stared down at me.

"Why? Is someone…?" I quickly shook my head. "You know I'll take care of them if they were. You can tell me."

"I know. And I would. I'm just…afraid that someone _could_ come. What if he tried to take me away again?" Alexandre pushed the dog away and pulled me close to him.

"He won't. He has no clue where we are."

"It's been put out in the newspapers…"

"Assuming that he even read that, he thinks I'm married to someone who doesn't exist."

"You're right. You're always right, but I still can't shake this feeling that he will steal me away in the middle of the night."

"He won't. I swear it. I'll always protect you from him and every other monster who threatens you. Trust me."

"My shining knight," I said softly.

"My beautiful princess."

"I'm hardly beautiful."

"Yes, you are." He leaned in to kiss me, but pulled away, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"It's hard to properly kiss you with that damn thing on." An image of me kissing Erik flashed through my mind. It had been…uncomfortable to kiss him when he wore the mask, to say the least.

"You know I can't take it off."

"Yes, you can. When you're with me, it's alright. I don't care about that. Something like that would never make me stop loving you." He gently untied it and pulled it away from me. He pressed his lips against mine. "That's much better." I sighed, taking the mask from him. I set it on the bedside table. "Were you planning on wearing it to sleep?"

"I do every other night."

"Is that comfortable?"

"Not at all."

"Then stop. I won't scream. I won't ever look at you in disgust." He pushed Nicolas away, and pressed himself against me. He ran his fingers through my hair, then caressed my scarred cheek. I placed my hand on his. Nicolas wormed his way between us. Alexandre sighed, clearly irritated. "That's it. That dog is going outside." He began to get up, but I pulled him back.

"If you put that innocent, helpless puppy outside in the cold, I will not speak to you for two months." He sighed, sliding back in bed. "Besides, he just wants to be loved. That's all either of us want."

 _That's all Erik wanted._

No! He wanted a woman he couldn't have when there was another one waiting for him to tell her how much he wanted to be with her.

"Marie…" I glanced at Alexandre, pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind. "You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" I gave a small nod. He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Alexandre!" He shook his head.

"Were you thinking about how much you wish _he_ was lying next to you instead of me?" he asked bitterly. "How much you wish he was your husband?" He paused, sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "I'm sorry. I know…"

"I don't love him," I said quietly.

"Sometimes one of us says something and you just…you're no longer here, it seems. And I fear…"

"What?"

"I fear you're still in love with him, and you want to be with him, wherever the bastard is."

"I don't," I said softly but firmly. "You should know by now. You're the only man I love, and one of the only people."

"Who are the others?" he asked, taking my hand. He rubbed it gently.

"Really only you and Christine."

"What about your mother and sister?"

"I doubt I'll ever forgive them for going with _him_ when _I_ needed them most." Alexandre swallowed. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing at all."

"Tell me. Please. I won't be angry." He forced a smile.

"There's nothing to tell." I turned on my other side. Alexandre pulled me closer, moving Nicolas again. I patted the bed for the dog to come closer. I held Nicolas, scratching his head. Alexandre kissed my cheek. "Please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not," I assured. "I love you."

"I love you too. You have no idea." I smiled.

"I think I do."

"You know, when I was seventeen, I almost found the courage to talk to you. But I saw you with Meg and Christine, talking and laughing. You were so…untouchable. I was certain that you'd laugh in my face."

"I probably would've died. I dreamed that you would say just one word to me." I nestled myself in his embrace.

"If only I'd known that," he laughed. "I wouldn't have hesitated had I known you wanted me too."

"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that we're together now." I paused. "He is so adorable! Alexandre, just look at that face!" I could practically feel my husband roll his blue eyes.

"I'm starting to hate that damned dog."

* * *

 **Author's Note: French bulldogs are adorable puppies. But they're not near as cute as shiba inu puppies (look them up, they are the cutest thing ever). Sorry. I have two shiba inus and I was just cuddling with them and this happened.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	9. Chapter 8: Scheming

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 8: Scheming

 **Author's Note: Bad news, kiddies. Due to the fact that school (for me, anyway) starts tomorrow, I will be going back to the original schedule I had for 'TDOTN': every Saturday I update. I will try to maybe update on Fridays too, but I dunno. Dang it, I'm gonna miss you guys! I do, however, have a _much_ longer chapter that I plan on posting either tonight or sometime tomorrow. Trust me, it's a juicy one and I have a feeling most of you are gonna like it...**

 **Special thanks to filmgrl13 and jigokunooujo for following TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, and Guest for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Well, it'll be about three more chapters until they actually, you know, talk. And I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.**

 **michellecarriveau: Seriously, what do you think his secret is? It'll be revealed next chapter, but I want to know if you guessed it. And I like Neal, I really do, but Captain Swan needs to live.**

 **Guest: I love when they're fat like Nicolas. They're so cute! (^.^)**

* * *

(Coney Island, 1885-Erik's POV)

All I could think of was Christine. Her untamable brown curls, her angelic voice, her chocolate eyes…I needed to see her again. I needed to hear her sing.

I no longer saw _her_ when I took morphine. I didn't see Christine either, no matter how much I wished I could.

"I can't take this anymore!" I heard Meg cry in the other room. "I can't just sit here while my mother slowly dies."

"Honey," I heard Nichole say. "I'm really sorry about yer ma. But what yer sayin' is completely crazy. Ya can't just leave her here!"

"I'm going to England and that's that! I have to tell Christine!" My head snapped up.

"Ya don't have enough money ta go." There was a pause.

"You're right. I…You're right. Can I just have a moment?" There was silence. I slowly stood and opened the door, finding Little Giry curled up on the floor, weeping for her mother.

"Miss Giry," I said. "You want to go to England. I will give however much you need if you do something for me."

"You were eavesdropping?" she asked in dismay.

"It was hard not to overhear when you were shouting." A blush spread across the girl's already red face.

"My apologies, monsieur. What is it I'm to do if I go to England?" she asked quickly. I suppressed a smirk. I'd have no trouble getting her to do what I wanted.

"I merely want you to convince Christine to come here. Do not mention me to her."

"Sir, I'm not certain it would be wise to bring her here. Someone could get hurt."

"What do you mean?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. She cowered back slightly.

"M-My sister was killed last time you pursued Christine. It wasn't a peaceful way to die either."

"She died in a coma. She didn't feel a thing," I said with cold indifference. I'd always remember her, but my heart was set on winning Christine back.

And I would do whatever it took to make that happen.

"Monsieur," she started angrily. I stopped her.

"You no longer have a choice, Little Giry. You will go to England and bring Christine to me. Don't test my patience, for I have very little. You leave tomorrow." She quickly nodded and ran past me.

Finally I would be reunited with my Angel.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry about the late update and the shortness of the chapter. I wanna tell you guys something that happened a few days back. It's kind of weird.**

 **Where I live we have spiders. Not really bad, but my dad will usually spot a few daily. For some reason, I typically don't see them.**

 **My dad had just killed one and I saw him do it, and I kinda got mad. I straight up grabbed my copy of Susan Kay's** _ **Phantom,**_ **found the part with Christine and the spider, and quoted Erik about why the spider should not have to die.**

 **Sure enough, when I was about to get in the shower, one scuttled across the bathroom floor. It was a nasty little bugger, and I'm sure I stood there for a good five minutes just staring at it. It wasn't hurting anyone, just chilling by the vent. I went ahead and got in the shower (which was not at all enjoyable with that newfound knowledge-I poked my head out several times just to make sure it hadn't moved), and when I finished getting dressed, I ran to the kitchen, grabbing a clear pint glass. I trapped the thing, just staring at it. It was angry and scared, running around like a mad person. Eventually my dad came in and we had a brief argument about whether or not to kill the dang thing. I wanted to let it go, but NO. Needless to say, my dad killed it and I cried for a couple minutes.**

 **I don't like spiders. I'm not scared of them, but I don't care for them. A lovely example of how Erik can change a person.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	10. Chapter 9: Family Affairs

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 9: Family Affairs

 **Author's Note: Sorry this was late. But hey it's a lot longer than usual.**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, and Scarlett Michaelson for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: He doesn't know our leading lady is alive! But yes, that was a huge turn.**

 **michellecarriveau: ...Not _everyone._ ;) And once you read that, I'm 95% sure you'll see spiders in a whole new light.**

* * *

(London, 1886-Marie's POV)

I was at Christine's house, speaking with my friend and playing with her nearly four-year-old son when it happened. There was a loud banging at the door.

"I'm sorry, Marie. I'll be back momentarily," she said gently. "Could you watch Gustave?" I nodded, smiling, and continued talking to Gustave. I didn't speak to him like he was three. Being his father's son, he was much smarter than most other children and therefore, I believed baby-talk wasn't appropriate for him.

Gustave and I had grown very close in the past year. Often Alexandre and I would help Christine and the boy when the Vicomte was out drinking and gambling. Alexandre often found himself fighting with the viscount when the fool was around, usually resulting in multiple minor injuries on both of them.

"Meg!" I heard Christine say in shock. "To what do I owe this visit?" She had brought Meg into the room, and now my sister was staring at the child and me.

"M-Marie?" she asked softly. I slowly stood, adjusting my mask.

"Meg…" Before I could say anything else, Meg threw her arms around me. I embraced my sister tightly. I didn't know where she was, or I would've written to her and Mother.

"You were dead," she sobbed. "He told us you had died."

 _Waking up in total darkness and finding you could barely move…_

"Who?" I asked.

"Alexandre Levesque." Anger filled me, but then I began to remember things that I had long since forgotten and had wished to keep buried.

 _There's no way out. You're in a box…_

"They buried me, but I woke up and was saved. He didn't tell you? It was the day of my funeral."

 _Buried alive…_

"No. He told Mother…" she stopped. "Mother's dying."

" _What_?" I glanced at Christine, who looked as shocked as I did.

"She's been ill for the past year. I came to tell Christine…I didn't know you were alive."

"Has Erik been helping her?" I hadn't said his name in years and it now felt alien on my tongue.

"No. She doesn't want help. She's come to terms with it because she thinks she'll be reunited with you."

"I have to see her," I said. "Where is she?"

"Coney Island. It's in New York," Meg replied. "Will you come too, Christine?" Our friend nodded.

"Of course. I'll…I'll start packing now."

"I should go. I have clothing to pack, a dog to feed," I said. _A husband to strangle._

"Can I come with you?" she asked.

"I'd rather you not. There are some very personal matters I must attend to. But it would be lovely if you came over for supper. Will six o'clock suit you?" She nodded, and I gave her the address before kissing Gustave on the forehead, wishing him a quick farewell. "I'll see you soon, darling." I forced a smile. He nodded.

"Goodbye, Aunt Marie."

"Goodbye, Gustave."

* * *

"Alexandre Levesque, come here right now!" I shouted when I had entered our home. He soon appeared, looking worried.

"Darling…?"

"Don't you 'darling' me!" I was absolutely furious.

"What's wrong?"

"'What's wrong?' What's wrong is that you let my mother and sister believe I was dead for five years, you bastard!" He didn't try to deny it, merely nodded.

"How did you find out?"

"I was with Christine and Gustave when there was a knock at the door. And wouldn't you know it? Meg comes inside and tells me two very important things: that my mother is dying and my husband is lying, and has been since before I married him!"

"Remember when I asked if you'd be angry if I lied to protect you?" I nodded angrily. "I did, and I'm not sorry for it! I informed your mother that you were to be buried. Then the Terror happened. I never told anyone you were alive. But I did it to protect you! Your mother and sister went with _him_ to Coney Island. I wanted you to be safe from him, and I knew that eventually, _he_ would find out that you were alive, and then he'd come for you and steal you away from me!

"I am very sorry that your mother and sister had do live for the past several years thinking that you were dead, but he never came here! My lie kept you safe, as I prayed it would!" I sighed.

"I never thought I'd question our marriage, but I find myself doing so now." I pushed past him and quickly walked to our bedroom.

"Marie…" he started, following me. I broke out into a run, which wasn't easy with the gown I was wearing. I slammed the bedroom door behind me, locking it just before he caught up to me. "Come out. Dammit, Marie, come out!" He was pounding on the door, pleading for me to let him explain further. I didn't want to hear it. Not then.

When the pounding stopped, I sunk down to the floor with my back against the wall. I began to silently weep. Mother was dying. My mother was dying. And my husband, the one man I knew I could trust, had let her believe I was dead. If I didn't get there soon, she would die thinking I was gone. I couldn't let that happen. I quickly packed enough clothes for a month into three suitcases and finally opened the door.

Alexandre was sitting against the wall as I had been moments earlier. His eyes were red from crying, as I'm positive mine were.

"I'm sorry, Marie," he whispered. I ignored him and began to pull the suitcases along. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" He quickly stood.

"I'm going to Coney Island with Meg and Christine."

"You most certainly will not! As your husband I can't and won't allow you to go there!"

"Then perhaps I don't want to be your wife!" I shot back. He was clearly taken aback.

"You don't mean that," he said quietly.

"I'm not so sure right now."

"Why do you want to go anyway? Perhaps to go cry in the arms of that freak?" I was hurt. After all these years, he still thought I would go to _him_ for comfort?

" _No._ My mother is dying and I'd like to inform her that I'm alive, since you didn't." His mouth parted slightly.

"I'm so sorry. Marie…" I shook my head and continued to drag the luggage down the hall. "I won't let you go there if I'm not with you."

"You're not my father, Alexandre. And frankly, I have a feeling that you're not going to be welcomed."

"I don't care. I'm coming with you. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. And Meg is coming for supper at six. Try to compose yourself by then." I ignored the hurt look on his face as I attempted to move all three suitcases at once. He took two from me and carried them downstairs. He pulled on his coat. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to purchase two tickets for whatever ship is leaving tomorrow morning. I'll return right after."

"Do what you want. I was simply wondering." He sighed.

"I love you, Marie. If you doubt everything else, never doubt that." We stood for a moment in an uncomfortable silence before he left.

I knew I still loved him. But what he had done would take me a long time to forgive. What made it worse was that he knew where they were, where they had gone, and he never told me. He never gave me the choice.

* * *

Supper was…awkward, to say the least. Meg spent half the time glaring at Alexandre, who kept shooting pleading glances at me. I ignored both of them, instead focusing on playing with my ratatouille. I did, however, down my wine very quickly. God only knows I needed it.

Eventually, I excused myself, getting out of there as fast as possible. I took Nicolas and brought him out into the garden. I could at least trust Nicolas to never lie to me.

"Hey," said my sister. I looked up at her and motioned for her to sit beside me on the stone bench. She scratched Nicolas's head as she did. "What's his name?"

"Nicolas."

"He's so cute!" She paused. "Marie?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you take off the mask?"

"I'd rather not."

"You're my sister. Whatever lies beneath it won't bother me." I hesitantly removed it. She didn't scream or even gasp. "I hate what happened. You didn't deserve it."

"It doesn't matter if I deserved it or not," I said, putting the mask back on. "It happened and there's nothing I can do to change it. Anyway, what have you been up to?"

"Well, the… _he_ opened an amusement park in Coney Island. Mother has been co-managing it, and Nichole and I perform." I nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Nichole?" I asked teasingly, knowing how much she had despised Nichole when we were at the Opera Populaire. Meg rolled her eyes.

"I don't dislike her as much as I used to. But she can be so annoying."

"So can you," I laughed, poking her side. She laughed as well.

"You're no better!"

"Are you staying in an inn?" I asked.

"N-No. I got here today. I don't really have anywhere to go." I rolled my eyes, smiling.

"You, of course, can stay here tonight."

"Thank you…" When we heard my husband clear his throat, she stopped talking.

"I just wanted to make sure you two were alright…and say once again how sorry I am." I sighed, standing. I handed Nicolas to Meg and took my husband by the arm and led him out of the garden.

"I love you, Alexandre. Trust me, I do. But it's going to take time for me to be able to forgive you. It'll take much more than that for Meg to forgive you."

"I know. I…"

"I'm going to show Meg to her room. You should get ready for bed. Tomorrow will be the second of many trying days." He nodded and reached out to touch me, but changed his mind at the last moment. He trudged up the stairs.

I led my sister to the room in which she'd sleep for the night before returning to my own bedroom. Alexandre was making himself comfortable on the sofa across the room.

"You aren't planning on sleeping there, are you?" I asked as I stepped behind the changing screen.

"I was, but if you'd prefer me not to…"

"Do what you want," I said. "It makes no difference to me."

I was still so angry with him, though I tried not to show it. It wasn't his decision to make! Besides, even if _he_ found us and wanted me back, I would've never gone with him after what he did to me. Didn't Alexandre trust me?

Those were the thoughts on my mind when I drifted off to sleep and succumbed to the darkness that waited for me in my dreams.

* * *

 _I awoke in total darkness. I attempted to sit up, but I hit my head when I tried._

 _I felt around me and found that I was completely trapped. Wood._

 _Dear God, what had happened? Think, Marie, think! Where were you before you fell asleep?_

 _The Opera Populaire! Alright…What happened?_

 _I struggled to remember everything that had occurred, but could think of nothing besides Erik._

 _Erik! That's a start! What was Erik doing?_

 _I thought as I fired questions at myself, trying to be calm instead of panicking._

 _Singing. Erik was singing, of course. With Christine…_

 _Oh my God. The fire, Alexandre…_

 _Jesus Christ, I was in a coffin!_

 _I lost every ounce of calmness in my body and screamed bloody murder, hoping that someone, anyone could help me._

 _I banged on the lid of the coffin with my fists, not caring that they were getting more and more splintered and bloody with every passing moment._

 _After what seemed like and infinity, the coffin lid was opened and I was blinded by a madly bright light._

" _Marie," someone said, sounding surprised and extremely relieved._

" _Alexandre," I whispered, my voice raspy and horse from screaming. Tears began to stream down my cheeks, even though my eyes were squeezed shut. I felt him lift me from that horrible box and gently set me down before picking me back up. He held me for a few moments and I could tell that he too was crying._

 _He-_

"Marie!" I opened my eyes to find Alexandre gripping my upper arms. He looked so worried. I sighed. It was only a dream. But it wasn't. It was one of my worst memories, one that I feared would haunt me forever. "Are you alright?" I sat up to see my sister standing in the doorway, looking absolutely terrified for me.

Despite my anger, I threw my arms around Alexandre who returned the embrace.

"I-It was the Terror." He nodded. "God, it felt so real. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I woke you both, didn't I?" Alexandre shook his head.

"It's fine. I wasn't sleeping anyway," he said,

"I…I was reading," Meg said quietly.

"I'm fine," I said quietly. "Go back to bed. I'm alright." Alexandre nodded to Meg and I heard her leave the room.

"You haven't had a nightmare about that in years," he whispered.

"You make it very difficult to be cross with you when you hold me like this," I said with a hint of playfulness in my tone. I felt him smile into my neck.

"Perhaps I should do it more often," he chuckled. He kissed my cheek and laid me back down. I gripped his hand.

"Wait. Please don't leave me." He nodded and laid down beside me.

"You're giving me a reprieve, then?" he asked as I pressed myself against him.

"I suppose I am."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Alexandre, if you think you're in the clear, you've got another thing coming! That was a jerk move, bro!**

 **Anyway, I'll do my best to update again tonight or tomorrow, but I've got a math quiz to study for already (this is the second one). Ugh. Life.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	11. Chapter 10: Seeing Her

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 10: Seeing Her

 **Author's Note: I am so, _so_ sorry. I'll try to have another chapter up maybe today or sometime this week to make up for my absence and this chapter's shortness.**

 **Special thanks to xXxDeMoNaNgEl27xXx for favortiting TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, loveneverdies115, and Guest for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: That'll happen likely next chapter. And I know, I suck. If you had my math teacher, you'd understand.**

 **michellecarriveau: Alexandre is as good as dead when Erik finds out. And yeah. You can blame _Ghost Whisperer_ S03 E02 for the Terror.**

 **loveneverdies115: He wanted Marie all to himself. ;)**

 **Guest: Sorry. You'll have to wait one more chapter. Like I said, I'll try to have it up sooner than Friday or Saturday, but no promises.**

* * *

(Coney Island, 1886-Erik's POV)

Where the hell was that girl? It had been weeks since she left for England, and I hadn't received as much as a letter from her! What was taking so long? What if…

No. She wouldn't do that.

Meg Giry wouldn't dare disobey me.

"Sir?" The small voice of one of my employees brought me out of my thoughts. Fleck.

"Yes?" I asked in a clipped tone. There was no hiding my frustration.

"Miss Giry has returned," My head snapped up at the girl, "with the Vicomte de Chagny and his family and Monsieur Alexandre Levesque and his wife." My Christine had finally arrived.

"Very good. Where are they now?"

"The Vicomte and Monsieur Levesque are looking for an inn, while Miss Giry brings the Vicomtess and Madame Levesque to visit Madame Giry."

"Thank you, Fleck. You are dismissed." As the woman left my office, I pulled on my coat. I wouldn't speak to her yet. I had to catch her when she was alone, which could prove to be difficult. But I had to see Christine.

As I walked down the empty corridors, I couldn't help but think of Marie. What would she think of me now? She'd surely despise me even more than before, if that were possible.

"Hiya, boss!" said the annoyingly cheery voice of Nichole Edwards. "How's it goin'?" I grimaced.

"Perfectly fine, Miss Edwards. If you would excuse me, I have important matters to which I must attend." Her smile disappeared.

"Alrighty, boss! See ya later!" She quickly passed by me and allowed me to continue walking uninterrupted.

I would not think of Marie now. Marie was dead and nothing could change that. But Christine…

"Mother is in here. I'm sure she'll be very happy to see you, both of you." Both? Did Antoinette know Levesque's wife?

I hid myself in the shadows.

"Thank you, Meg," came the reply of my angel. I heard the door to Antoinette's room open. Before it could close, I slid inside and hid.

There she was. Her back was to me, but I knew she was just as beautiful as she was when I last saw her.

Then I saw the woman standing next to her. I could only see the left side of her, but I could see that her face was covered with a black mask. How peculiar.

"Hello, Mother." No. That was impossible.

"Marie? Is that you?" asked Antoinette.

"Yes, Mother. I'm here."

* * *

 **Author's Note: I have been stressing out so much, it's not even funny. I blame my math teacher for 50% of it.**

 **I will do my best to keep updating on my usual schedule, but between my vocal lessons, school, my music theory class, rehearsals for _Nightmare Before Christmas,_ my impending move, and just life in general, I don't know if I can. But I can promise you that I'm doing my absolute best.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	12. Chapter 11: Reunion

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 11: Reunion

 **Author's Note: Guess what I watched yesterday? _Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog!_ *sigh* NPH...**

 **Special thanks to Child of Music and Imagination and jessofitz for following TMOTN,**

 **to Child of Music and Imagination and CharleneAmato for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to Child of Music and Imagination for following and favoriting me,**

 **and to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, Guest, and _Aka_Geek_ for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Interesting, indeed. :)**

 **michellecarriveau: Thanks. I really needed that. :) As for your comment about me being evil, well, you're not wrong. Mwa ha ha ha! ;)**

 **Guest: I know. I'm sorry it was short, but it was a relatively good place to stop, and I didn't have time to write more.**

 **_Aka_Geek_: Aw, thanks! And that's hilarious. I've done similar things. Ah, the life of a fanfiction reader. XD**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

The journey to Coney Island had not been easy in the slightest. Meg had been glaring daggers at Alexandre, who was desperately trying to win back my affections. Raoul had been drunk the entire time. Nicolas nearly drowned himself, and Christine and Gustave had both fallen ill on the way there. They were fine by the time we arrived in Coney.

I was also very angry at Christine and the Vicomte. They had kept my husband's secret, lied to me for years. I felt as though I could trust no one but Meg and Mother, and Mother would soon be gone…

I had silently parted with Alexandre, who took Nicolas and went with the intoxicated viscount to find a decent inn. Meg was currently taking Christine and me to see Mother. I was almost dreading it. What could I say to a woman who believed I was dead for the last five years?

"Mother is in here," Meg said, gesturing to a mahogany door. We'd been following her down the dark, empty corridors for what seemed like hours, and I was terrified. What would Mother say? Would she be angry at me? Relieved? "I'm sure she'll be very happy to see both of you, both of you." I wasn't sure.

Meg silently opened the door.

"Mother?" she called quietly. "You have visitors."

"Where have you been, Meg? You've been gone for weeks!" came the hoarse voice of my mother.

"I'm sorry. I was retrieving your visitors." When I saw Mother, I had to force myself to not cry. She was so pale, eyes and cheeks sunken in.

"Hello, Mother," I said quietly. Her eyes widened before she broke into a painful-sounding coughing fit.

"Marie?" she asked. "Is that you?" I knelt by her bedside, gripping her bony hand.

"Yes, Mother. I'm here." A tear fell down her cheek.

"I must be dead."

"No, Mama. I'm alive. I never died."

"That's impossible. Alexandre told me…"

"He lied."

"Why did you never write to us, inform us that you were well?"

"I didn't know where you had gone." Meg knelt beside me, head on my shoulder.

"Why do you wear the mask?" I hesitated.

"I was burned in the fire."

"I…had nearly…forgotten." Her words were interrupted by her coughs.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. Christine spoke at last.

"I wish I had known you were ill," she said. "I would've come much sooner."

"No worries, child. I am merely glad you came at all, with my daughter, no less." She coughed again, eventually spitting blood into her handkerchief. I began to quietly sob. "Leave me," she said when she was finished. "I will send for you later." My lips parted in a silent protest, but I stood, bending down to kiss her forehead.

"I love you, Mother." She coughed again, but nodded.

"I love you too, my child." I quickly left the room, Meg right behind me.

"I'm sorry, Meg, but could you give me a moment? I need to be alone for a while." She nodded, leading Christine away. I mindlessly wandered the corridors until I ran into something hard. Seeing that it was a man, I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, monsieur. I wasn't watching where I was going." I looked up and saw a familiar white mask.

I backed away slowly until my back hit the wall.

"Erik," I whispered. He took a step toward me, then moved back again. He looked terrible, pale as a ghost, unhealthily thin. His brilliant green eyes were now a stormy grey and were sunken in, most likely from lack of sleep.

"They told me you were dead," he murmured. I straightened.

"As you can see, I'm as alive as you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going." I turned away from him, but he grabbed my wrist.

"I spent years blaming myself for what happened! I mourned you for years!" I was becoming very nervous very quickly.

"It _was_ your fault. I really must be going. So if you would release me, I would greatly appreciate it." He let go. I felt someone else's hand close around my wrist. Alexandre.

"Ah, Monsieur Levesque," Erik said dangerously. "I believe there is something you didn't tell me." Alexandre scowled. I pried his hand off of me.

"Do not touch me," I hissed at him. He looked at me pleadingly. That was his mistake. When he lost focus on Erik, the latter struck. In a matter of seconds, he had Alexandre against the wall, hand closed tightly around his neck.

"Erik, stop," I said calmly, placing my hand on his shoulder. I was cross with my husband, but that didn't mean I wanted him dead. "Erik, please…" But he ignored me.

"I lived the last five years not only believing she was dead, but thinking it was my fault!"

"Erik, for Christ's sake, let him go!" This time, he did. Alexandre fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

"I can't say I'm sorry," Alexandre said, rubbing his throat. "You hurt her in so many ways." Erik glanced over at me, at my mask. He took one step toward me, reaching out again.

"This has become horribly awkward. I'll be going now." I began to walk away. Alexandre quickly stood, running after me.

"Marie, wait!" Alexandre cried, taking my hand. "He knows you're alive now. I can't leave you alone, even if you despise me." He paused. "I'm sorry that I lied. It wasn't at all easy, trust me. I wanted to tell you so many times."

"I don't care. Let me go." He shook his head vehemently.

"No. Come on. I'll take you to the inn and stay out of your way for the rest of the evening. Please." I glanced behind Alexandre, finding that Erik was already gone. I briefly nodded.

"Fine."

As hard as I tried to sleep that night, I simply found it impossible. Between Mother…and Erik…and Alexandre, I just couldn't let myself give in to that peaceful bliss.

After hours of tossing and turning in the bed, I sat up, then slid out of the bed, careful to not wake my husband, who was sleeping on the sofa on the other side of the room. I pulled my robe around me and stepped through the double-doors onto the balcony on our suite. Running a hand through my hair, I looked out onto the city. It truly was beautiful, with beautiful shining lights and tiny people everywhere.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said a voice from behind me. I spun around, barely suppressing a scream. Erik.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, irritated that he had come here.

"I wanted to see you. Is that a crime?"

"After what you did to me, it should be," I said, turning back around.

"I never meant to hurt you," he said quietly.

"I'll believe that when the sky turns green and the grass turns blue."

"I was stupid. I didn't think…You have to know that I never considered that you would be hurt so badly by my mistake. A mistake that eventually made you have to wear a mask."

"I don't care anymore. I stopped caring years ago."

"I spent years mourning you. Marie, you don't want to know how low I sunk."

"No, I don't." I glanced at him. He was bracing himself against the railing of the balcony beside me.

"You changed."

"I simply grew up. I was a mere child when we first met. Seventeen years old, Erik! I was naïve. I didn't know what love was."

"Neither did I." We stared at each other in silence for a moment before I spoke again.

"You should go. If Alexandre knew you were here…Our marriage is strained as it is." He scowled.

"Do you still love him after what he did?"

"I'll always love him. I don't know if I can ever forgive him completely, but I still love him, yes."

"Do you still love me?"

"Erik, I don't know if I ever loved you. Like I said, I was young and naïve. You were the first man besides my father to show me any attention."

"I still love you," he admitted.

"And Christine, apparently."

"Marie…"

"Erik, please, just go. Don't come back." He looked down at me, and I looked up at him.

And then he kissed me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And...cut. Perfect, guys. That's a wrap.**

 **I love saying that.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**

 **P.S. If you want _more_ Phanfiction from yours truly, you're in luck! I just started a new one! Since I am incredibly busy, and I'm heavily devoted to this story, it's just going to be something I update when 'TMOTN' has been updated and I have time to do another. It's following Susan Kay's novel, and can be found in the _Phantom of the Opera_ book subcategory. It's called 'A Cold and Broken Hallelujah,' if you're interested. :)**

 **Shameless advertising. XD**


	13. Chapter 12: What Belongs to Him

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 12: What Belongs to Him

 **Author's Note: I love not having school on Mondays. Happy Labor Day, guys, if you're American! If not, well, still Happy Labor Day!**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, and Guest for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Erik seduces all the girls. ;)**

 **michellecarriveau: Yes, I give you one kiss...for now.**

 **Guest: NOBODY WILL SLAP ERIK! 'NOT WHILE I'M AROUND...' Heh. Did you get it? Huh? Did you? Did you? *sigh* Musicals...**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

I had her. I had her in my arms, my lips on hers. She was alive, and she was returning my kiss.

"Erik," she whispered when we eventually parted. "Leave now. Before he wakes up."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Don't apologize. For God's sake, don't apologize."

"Marie?" her husband called. I quickly released her and hid in the shadows. "Marie, where are you?" I heard him open the double doors. "What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said, a coldness in her voice. "I needed some air." He stood beside her, staring out over the city.

"I always wanted to bring you here, under different circumstances, of course. I envisioned you and me, and maybe a child coming here for a holiday. Now I find myself wondering if we'll even make it back to England together."

"What makes you think that?" she asked softly.

"I doubt he'll let you go that easily, Marie."

"And you doubt my loyalty to you."

"You would want to stay with me even after…?"

"You're my husband, Alexandre. It's not like I have a choice." He sighed.

"Yes, you do."

"I won't divorce you. Not yet, anyway. I want to forgive you. And perhaps one day I will. I need time…"

"And you have it. You have all the time in the world." He paused. "I don't deserve your forgiveness." She didn't respond. "I love you, Marie." She still remained silent. "Come on. It's cold out here. I don't want you to get sick." She nodded and followed him inside, glancing at me one more time before closing the doors behind her.

* * *

I had nearly made it back to my house when Fleck stopped me.

"Sir," she said quietly, "Madame Giry passed away an hour ago. Miss Giry instructed me to inform you." My jaw dropped.

"She…she's dead?" I asked, my mouth dry. "Fleck, I want you to retrieve Madame Levesque from her inn room _now._ Take her to Antoinette, and don't take no for an answer, though I doubt it'll be a problem." She nodded, and I gave her the inn and the room number, sending her off as quickly as possible. I rushed to Antoinette's room.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her unmoving form.

"I'm sorry, _mon ami._ I could have…I should have saved you." I sat by her bedside for God only knows how long when the door flew open, a sobbing Marie rushing inside. She had thrown on a lovely violet gown. Her curls hung loose, cascading down her back.

Her husband followed her shortly after. His eyes met mine briefly and he scowled, but ignored me.

"Marie," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." She kissed her mother's forehead, a teardrop falling onto Antoinette's cheek.

"I shouldn't have left her. There was so much more to tell her. I should've stayed…" She muttered things to herself as she wept in her husband's arms. Pain and jealousy surged through me. How I longed to be him at that moment. "Alexandre, please leave me for a moment. I want to be alone." He shook his head, glancing at me. She didn't seem to notice I was there.

"I'm sorry, Marie. I can't. I won't leave you alone. Not now." She pulled away from him, sitting on the bed beside Antoinette's body.

"She likely wouldn't want you in here anyway. Just go. I don't need your protection."

"Yes, you do."

"Please don't argue. I don't have the energy." He sighed.

"Two minutes." Then he left before Marie could say another word.

"I'm sorry," I said after a few silent moments. She glanced at me, then back at Antoinette.

"She should still be here."

"I know." I stood and walked over to Marie, placing my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me. "She was a great woman, and an excellent friend and mother." She placed her hand on top of mine. I felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her again, but I forced myself not to do so.

As the door opened, she quickly pulled her hand away, instead placing it on her mother's.

"Get away from her right now," said Levesque, sounding angry but not surprised. I moved away from her, clasping my hands behind my back. "Marie…"

This was torture. I had made the mistake of kissing her. Now, I would never be able to rest until I felt her soft lips against mine again, and I doubted she would allow me to do so again. I yearned to have her in my arms, to hold her as that boy did. I wanted everything to be the same as before, when she loved me.

I nearly laughed at myself. Just yesterday, I'd been dreaming of seeing Christine once more, and after one glance at Marie, my focus had changed entirely.

Not that I had even a chance with either. Completely disregarding that both women would never forgive me for my past actions, they were both married and Christine had a child. It seemed that I would always be alone.

"Monsieur, may I have a word with you in private?" I glanced at Marie's husband. I nodded briefly, looking at Marie one more time before following him out of the room.

"What did you want to say, monsieur?" I asked impatiently. I had begun to itch for morphine.

I caught his fist just before it hit my nose.

"She's my wife, you bastard!" he shouted. "Things are not the same as before, and the sooner you realize it, the better it'll be!" I couldn't stop the smirk from forming on my lips.

"For me? Tell me, _petit homme,_ what will you do to me if I try to win her back?" He shrunk back at my words. "Don't threaten me, monsieur. As for your wife, well, let her decide what she wants." Before he could say another word, I turned and returned to my house.

That foolish boy! If he thought he could threaten me without repercussions, he was sorely mistaken. Years had made him forget who I was, what I had done. What I could do. He would be put back in his place, and I knew exactly how to go about it.

Marie Levesque would be mine, I swore that night.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Erik, I swear to God...**

 _ **petit homme-**_ **little man**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	14. Chapter 13: Another Time

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 13: Another Time

 **Author's Note: Good Lord, I'm exhausted. Anyway, here you go. :)**

 **Special thanks to ChibiLeo for following TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, _Aka_Geek_, and Child of Music and Enchantment for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: I feel so bad for killing Madame Giry! D;**

 **michellecarriveau: You hurted Alexandre's feelings. ;)**

 **_Aka_Geek_: You had me at popcorn. ;)**

 **Child of Music and Enchantment: *grabs your shoulders and holds you down* I'm glad you love it!**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

Mother was dead. I hadn't expected her to live for much longer, but I certainly hadn't expected her to die the day I arrived in Coney.

I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I looked at her face. Her mouth, which would never smile again. Her eyes, which would never open.

"Marie," Alexandre said, sitting beside me. "I'm so sorry…"

"Shut up," I snapped. "Just shut up. I don't want to hear a word of it." He looked at me, eyes full of pain.

"I should've killed him when I had the chance," he whispered.

"This has nothing to do with him! You not only lied to them, but you knew where they had gone, and you didn't tell me!"

"If I had killed him, I wouldn't have had to lie."

"After what he did to me, do you honestly think I could love him again? Do you really not trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you. It's him I don't trust." I stood abruptly. "Marie, please…"

"Not right now. I'm in no mood to talk to you right now and will likely not be for a long time." I promptly left the room, not giving him an invitation to follow me.

After I was certain I had lost Alexandre, I stopped. Across the hall, I saw the girl who had brought me to Mother, and quickly stopped her.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle, but do you know where Monsieur Erik Destler is?" She nodded.

"He went home. Why?"

"I would like to talk to him. Do you know where he lives?"

"Who are you, exactly?"

"An old friend of his. He will want to speak with me." She quickly gave me his address, but stopped me before I could continue.

"He goes by Mr. Y now, madam." I nodded.

"Thank you." Moving as quickly as possible, I found his home. It was a beautiful Gothic house, perfect for him. I paused. Why exactly did I come here? Why would I come to Erik of all people?

I couldn't stop my hand from knocking on the door, nor could I stop its shaking.

The door swiftly opened, revealing Erik, sleeves rolled up.

"Marie?" he asked softly. "Are you alright?" He looked down at me. I nodded briefly.

"Is now a bad time? I'd like to talk, but I can come back."

"No," he said quickly. "Please, come in." He moved aside and gestured for me to come inside. "I'm so sorry about your mother. We'll all miss her." All I could do was nod. "I hate myself for not even trying to save her."

"It wasn't your fault," I said quietly. "I don't want to talk about her. It hurts too much." He nodded and gestured for me to follow him. He led me into his parlor, and offered me a seat.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked softly, sitting across from me.

"Why did you lead me on if you only wanted Christine?" I asked without thinking.

"You intrigued me," he said simply. "You were frightened when we first met, but you were also quick-witted. Though I never planned on killing you then. Nor did I plan on falling in love with you. I didn't think Christine would ever return."

"So you settled for her naïve friend. I was easy to manipulate, wasn't I?"

"It started out that way," he admitted. "But then…"

"Why did you choose Christine if you loved me so much?"

"I had power over her. In a way, I controlled her. No one, not even me, could control you." I looked away from him.

"But you did," I whispered.

"I'm sorry." I glanced at him.

" _Once upon another time,_

 _Our story had only begun._

 _You chose to turn the page,_

 _And I made choices too._

 _Once upon that other time,_

 _We did what we thought must be done._

 _And now we have no choice._

 _We do what we must do._

 _We love, we live,_

 _We give what we can give,_

 _And take what little we deserve."_

I stood, and he did too. As I finished speaking, I turned to leave. He caught my wrist, causing me to turn back around. He began to sing, and I became overwhelmed by his voice.

" _Once upon another time,_

 _I knew how our story would end._

 _And maybe I was wrong,_

 _But now the moment's gone._

 _Were it still that other time,_

 _I'd make time itself somehow bend._

 _But now I'm not that strong,_

 _And time keeps moving on."_

I looked into his eyes and found only sadness. Despite everything, I felt my heart flutter at his words.

" _We love, we live._

 _We give what we can give,_

 _And take what little we deserve."_

His hand moved from my wrist to my own hand, holding it gently but firmly. I felt myself move closer to him. Christ, what was I doing?

" _We love, we live._

 _We give what we can give,_

 _And take what little we deserve._

 _Once upon another time…"_

He leaned in slightly, and his lips barely touched mine when I broke free from his grasp. I pushed him away and found my way to the parlor door.

"Marie…" I stared at him, again noticing how thin he actually was, how tired he looked, how utterly…broken. And I couldn't stop myself from being worried about him.

"Are you alright, Erik?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, giving me an odd look.

"You're so thin, and you look like you haven't slept in years."

"I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Even better now that you're here, alive." As he shifted in the candlelight, I caught a glimpse of it.

I rushed over to him and grabbed his arm before he could stop me. I don't know how I didn't notice it before.

Blue spots covered his otherwise white skin.

"Erik, you had better be able to explain this to me." His breath caught, but he whispered one word.

"Morphine."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Uh oh...**


	15. Chapter 14: Three Little Words

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 14: Three Little Words

 **Author's Note: Hullo...again.**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, IKhandoZatman, and Child of Music and Dreams for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Depends on how you look at it.**

 **IKhandoZatman: LOL, yeah.**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Only a little.**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

Why hadn't I remembered to pull my sleeves back down? She had seen the marks, and there was no use lying to her.

"Morphine? Erik, what were you thinking?" she cried. Instead of responding, I could only gape at her. _She cared._ After all I'd done, she still cared. "Are you listening to me?"

"I…It was an old addiction that I beat when I met Christine. But after you were declared dead, the pain became too much, and morphine was the only thing that helped." I wouldn't tell her about my hallucinations.

I was too late to react. Marie had slapped me in the face. Hard.

"Dear God, Erik…" She wrapped her arms around my waist, head buried in my chest. I stiffened slightly out of shock, and she pulled away instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." I pulled her close to me.

"You have to stop this madness right now," she whispered. "No more morphine."

"Why?" I asked. "Why do you care about what becomes of me?" She said nothing.

"I don't know." She eventually pulled away from me. "I have to go. Alexandre…he'll be worried." I inwardly scowled. He didn't deserve her.

"Wait." She looked up at me, and for the first time in five years I felt almost…happy. Her bright blue eyes stared into mine. Her full lips were slightly parted, almost begging to be kissed. "I want to know exactly what happened." I touched her masked cheek. Instantly, she jerked away from me, eyes averted to the floor.

"Don't make me repeat it," she pleaded quietly.

"Tell me," I said softly. She took in a deep breath and sat down once again on my red sofa. This time I sat beside her.

"The night _Don Juan Triumphant_ was performed," she started, "after you had disappeared with Christine, I attempted to follow you down there. Alexandre tried to stop me, but I was able to get rid of him. The trap door had closed, and by that point, men had lit torches and were trying to follow you another way. One of them dropped his torch…that's what started the fire. It came closer and closer to me, until it eventually burned my face. The Vicomte de Chagny pulled me away from the blaze." Tears had begun to fall down her cheeks. I brushed them away.

"You fell into a coma. I visited you in the hospital two days before you were declared dead. Your husband had told me you might die from the stress of your injuries. Did you know he lied to us all?"

"Not until a couple weeks ago. Just before I was buried, I woke up. I was terrified. Anyone would've been if they woke up in a cold, dark box with no idea as to how they got there." Now she was sobbing violently. I placed an arm around her, gently pulling her into my chest. "Alexandre heard my screams and opened the coffin before they could put any dirt over me."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I shouldn't have made you tell me."

"You could've prevented it all," she hissed angrily through tears. "Why did you have to betray me?" She hit my chest with one fist. I took her wrist.

"I'm sorry. If I could change what I did, I would do it in a heartbeat." I lifted her chin up with my fingertips and pressed my lips to hers once again.

She pushed me away, but I persisted, strength I didn't know I possessed surging through me. I kissed each tear away until no more fell. I attempted to untie her mask, but she stopped me.

"Don't. Please." I refused to listen to her.

"Let me see you, Marie. Let me see what I've done." She closed her eyes in silent submission.

When I moved the black porcelain from her face, I had to fight very hard not to cry. I had ruined Marie's life entirely. She could never even pray for an entirely normal life because of me and what I did.

"I shouldn't have ever spoken to you after that night," I said quietly. "Shouldn't have ever touched you again." I had sealed her fate for her, without her even knowing. She shook her head.

"Despite everything, I've never regretted anything that happened between us. I wouldn't change anything except for the masquerade. I'll never regret meeting you. I can promise you that."

Our lips met again in a final chaste kiss.

Everything around me disappeared except for Marie Levesque in those brief, heavenly moments.

"I hate you," she whispered breathlessly when I pulled away. "I love you." She had no clue of the power she now held over me because she said those three little words. If she told me to shoot myself in the head, I would've done it without a moment's hesitation.

 _I love you._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Tomorrow I've got school again. *sigh* Oh well. At least Friday I only have to go half the day.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	16. Chapter 15: Secret Revealed

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 15: Secret Revealed

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. Friday I was making stuff for this bake sale, and then on Saturday I had rehearsals and was tired. I didn't edit this chapter because I don't have time right now and don't want it to be up any later than it already is. So go easy on me. ;)**

 **Special thanks to ACGamer for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: I will most likely do 'Beauty Underneath,' but I'm not quite sure how I'll incorporate 'Devil Take the Hindmost,' as much as I love the song. The Quartet, though, will most likely be included. :)**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: I'm glad you liked it! I had so much fun writing it. :D**

 **michellecarriveau: "Nobody gets over Erik" is right, my friend! And here it is...**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

I couldn't believe the words that escaped my lips. I had told him I loved him. There was no way in Hell he'd let me go now.

"Erik," I whispered. He released me and handed me my mask, then brushed a kiss against my temple.

"I should take you back to your husband. He'll certainly be worried." I stared at him for a brief moment before nodding absentmindedly. All I could think of was him and that kiss. "Come." He held out his hand, and I took it without any hesitation.

I don't remember the journey back to the inn, nor do I remember walking through the door. All I can remember is the relief and anger that flooded my husband's face when I entered that room.

"Marie, where have you been? I've been worried sick!" I could only stare up at him, unable to speak. He sighed deeply before wrapping his arms around me tightly. "I'm so sorry about your mother. I wish…" I broke away from her.

"Don't talk about her right now. I couldn't bear it if you spoke of her now." He nodded and pulled me further inside.

"I'll put on some tea for you," he said, forcing a smile. The pain in his eyes was obvious. He knew exactly where I'd been.

I sat down on the red plush chair in the corner of the room. I ran a hand through my loose hair. I had been so distraught when I was informed of my mother's death that I could barely bring myself to fully dress, let alone pin up my hair.

Dear God, what had I done?

Erik had somehow wormed his way back into my mind, and dare I say it, into my heart.

"Marie." I glanced up at Alexandre. He knelt down beside me. "Tell me where you were."

"Nowhere important, dear," I managed. He grasped my hands, forcing another smile.

"Alright." He paused. "I can't stand it when you're angry with me."

"Alexandre…" He stood and leaned down, caressing my cheek gently.

"I know I don't deserve it. But please…please forgive me for what I've done." He pressed a kiss to my unmasked cheek.

I knew in that moment that I had to forgive him, unless I dared to fall deeper into Erik's spell.

And so I nodded.

"I do, darling. I forgive you." And then I kissed him. He looked surprised, and then quickly drew away from me. "I love you." He pulled me from my seat and kissed me again.

"You know I love you."

* * *

I awoke the next day in tears. I had dreamt of Mother and Erik. Alexandre woke me, pulling me tightly to him, and whispering comforting things to me. It could've been hours, or it could've been minutes; I couldn't tell how long he held me.

His touch wasn't entirely welcome; I was still remarkably cross with him.

"Marie," he said eventually when I'd stopped crying. I pulled away from him.

"I need to speak with Meg." He nodded.

"Get dressed. We'll look for her in fifteen minutes." I nodded. He stood, and I noticed that for some reason he was already dressed. He gently kissed my forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, dear." He smiled and stepped out onto the balcony.

I sighed as I stood. I didn't want to wish Erik was here instead of Alexandre. I didn't want to long for his touch or his kiss. I certainly didn't want to love him. And yet, I did.

I hastily put on a deep red gown and laced up my boots before brushing and pinning up my hair. We left the hotel as quickly as humanly possible and began searching for my sister.

One of her friends told us that she was Nichole at a small café not too far away.

"Meg," I said when we found her. Her cheeks were rosy and tear-stained.

"Marie," she whispered, standing. Before I could say another word, Meg threw her arms around me. "You heard about Mother…" I choked back a sob and returned the embrace.

"Last night." She scowled when she saw Alexandre, but pulled me down to sit. Nichole offered a small smile.

"Heya, Rhee. Long time, no see." I managed to smile back.

"Hello, Nichole. And how have you been?" She shrugged.

"Alright. And you?"

"Not well." She nodded understandingly. Alexandre spoke softly.

"Meet me at the pier in twenty minutes.." I nodded and he left.

"Meg, I can't bear to talk about Mother."

"Neither can I," she said honestly. "So instead we'll discuss you. What have you been doing for the past five years?"

"Not much," I admitted. "The mask prevents me from doing many normal tasks." Meg and Nichole both looked at me sympathetically. "For the love of God, don't look at me like that!"

"What about Christine's son? Are the two of ya close?" Nichole asked. I nodded, nearly grimacing upon hearing Christine's name. I was still very angry at her and the Vicomte.

And so I told her secret.

"If you swear not to tell a soul, I'll tell you a secret about the child." They both nodded eagerly. "The Vicomte is not his father." Their eyes widened like saucers. "Would you like to know who it really is?" They nodded in unison. "Erik."

"Christ," Meg muttered under her breath. Nichole shrugged.

"I saw it comin.' I mean, have ya seen the kid?" I almost laughed at my friend. I had nearly forgotten how crude and blunt she could be. I'd missed her quite a lot.

"He does resemble Erik." We chatted for another fifteen minutes until I realized that I had to leave.

"I'm sorry, but I have to meet Alexandre, God knows what for. Perhaps we could have supper later tonight."

"That would be lovely," Meg said politely as I stood. She gave me a final hug, bid me farewell, and watched as I left the café.

When I arrived at the pier, I noted that Alexandre was nowhere to be seen.

I walked closer to the sea, looking out into the beautiful ocean, shimmering blue, and I found myself missing Paris. Alexandre and I hadn't returned since we left for England, and how I longed to be there then. Or perhaps it wasn't the city itself that I missed, but the events that had taken place there. I had fallen in love there, and I had many wonderful memories of that love.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I looked behind me to see Erik.

"Indeed." He came closer to me until his chest was pressed against my back.

"When I arrived in Coney Island, I'd come here almost daily and stare at the ocean. It reminded me of your eyes. And I begged, Marie. I begged God to bring you back to me." A tear slid down my cheek as I turned around. He had really loved me. He loved me and I doubted him. I did more than doubt him! I had turned my back on him.

"I'm here now." He smiled sadly.

"Not for long. Eventually you'll leave with your husband, and I'll be left alone to rot." I shook my head.

"I won't leave you." He looked surprised. "I love you, Erik." He leaned down, hands on my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck. The moment before our lips touched, Alexandre spoke.

"Well." I tried to move away from Erik, but he gripped me tightly.

"Alexandre…" I whispered.

"Let her go now," Alexandre said in a dangerous tone I'd never heard him use before.

"I'll never let her go again." My eyes widened.

"Erik…"

"I'm willing to bet, Marie, that when he hears the secret you've kept, he won't want you." My husband had a frightening smirk on his face.

"What are you…?" Erik cut me off.

"Secret?"

"You have a son, monsieur." I froze. Alexandre knew, and now so did Erik.

Dread sunk to the bottom of my stomach. Erik was never supposed to know.

"A son?" Erik's eyes widened like saucers. He released me instantly. "Marie, what is he talking about?" I took in a deep breath and spoke as calmly as I could.

"Gustave de Chagny is your son."

Alexandre took my hand and pulled me away. I couldn't bring myself to glance at Erik again.

"Just watch, Marie. By this time tomorrow, he'll be pining after Christine. But I'll never leave you. I'll never throw you away like that." I ignored him.

"That wasn't your secret to tell," I murmured eventually.

"It wasn't yours either." We said nothing after that.

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew Alexandre was right. Perhaps I had briefly won his heart, but with the knowledge Erik now had, I didn't stand a chance to Christine.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Marie, you never know... ;)**


	17. Chapter 16: Wishes and Kisses

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 16: Wishes and Kisses

 **Author's Note: Okay, before I start this chapter, I want to clarify something. ALW Erik's face is only deformed on the right side. Marie is the exact opposite. The left side of her face was burned, but the right side is normal. Just making that clear. :)**

 **Special thanks to kelse brady and Pam781 for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, _Aka_Geek_, and Guest for reviewing TMOTN,**

 **and to kelse brady for favoriting me!**

 **grapejuice101: The wait is over, fellow Phanfiction reader! Here you go!**

 **michellecarriveau: You don't give Erik enough credit. ;) And, I know right? It's a freaking great song!**

 **_Aka_Geek_: LOL, thanks, but I'm planning on keeping him around for a while. And did you say... _popcorn?_ GIVE ME SOME, I WANT IT RIGHT NOW! XD**

 **Guest: Erik/Marie is my current obsession, besides Erik himself.**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

A son? I had a son?

Marie and Levesque had left nearly an hour before, and I was still standing on the pier.

I had a son.

Questions swirled around in my head. Was he musically inclined? What were his interests? Was he intelligent?

I had to meet this boy.

But first, I had to have a discussion with Madame de Chagny.

* * *

"Christine." The woman before me spun around, fear obvious in her eyes.

"You. Marie warned me you'd come. You can't have him!" Marie had…

"I know. I only want to meet the boy." She shook her head.

"I won't have it. If you even meet him, you'll take him away!"

"I have a right to meet him. I'm his father!"

"No."

"Christine…"

" _Mother, please, I'm scared! What a dream, an awful dream! Someone strange and mad, seizing me and drowning me…"_ When I saw the boy, I nearly stopped breathing.

He was a spitting image of what I would've looked like had I not been born a monster. He had my green eyes, my nose…

"Hush," Christine whispered, kneeling down and holding him. "It's alright, darling. _Come and meet a friend of mine."_

" _Welcome to my world, young friend,"_ I managed.

"Gustave, this is…Mr. Y," Christine said quietly, worry evident in her voice.

"This place is yours?"

"Every inch of it," I smirked. _"Tell me where you'd like to go. Tell me what you want to see."_

"Monsieur," Christine started. I waved her off.

" _Madame, please, I insist."_

" _Would you show me, if you please, all Phantasma's mysteries, all that's strange, and wild, and dark in the shadows of the park?"_ he asked innocently. I was unable to contain a small burst of laughter. This child was so…like me.

"You shall see it all tomorrow. I promise."

"Back to sleep now, Gustave. I'll be in in a minute," said Christine firmly but gently. For a moment, I found myself wishing I had stayed with her, perhaps even married her. And then Marie's face flashed through my mind. If she loved me like she claimed she did, that would've killed her.

"Yes, Mother," the child replied sweetly, leaving the room.

"I am taking him and leaving the day after Madame Giry's funeral," Christine hissed. "You can't stop me."

"No, my dear. You can't stop _me._ That child is mine." I paused. "Christine, all I want is to spend some time with the boy. I won't tell him the truth about his father, and when you leave, I'll stay here until I die. I won't try to take either of you. I swear it. Just let me get to know him. Please." She glanced over in the direction the boy had gone.

"Tomorrow, but only for a couple hours." I nodded.

"Thank you, Christine. I'll come for him when I'm ready." With that, I turned and left.

A couple hours wouldn't be near enough, I would learn.

* * *

Later that night, I decided to visit Marie. I needed to talk to her. She would be terrified that I would forget about her entirely with the knowledge I now possessed. I couldn't blame her. I had done just that five years ago, and she had no clue why.

I climbed up on the balcony that was connected to their hotel room. When I glanced inside, I was appalled at what I saw. Marie and Levesque appeared to be arguing. I didn't much care until I saw him hit her.

She sunk to the ground, touching her cheek with a look of shock on her face. He immediately knelt beside her, and began to apologize profusely. At least, that's what it looked like. I was so close to going in there and murdering him for that alone when Marie glanced over to the balcony door. She clearly saw me.

Pushing her husband away, she stood and wandered closer to the door. I moved away out of sight. The door opened and closed, and then Marie was at my side.

"Are you alright?" I asked quickly, lifting her chin and turning her face so that I could see the mark. He hit her on the left side of her face, but she thankfully wore no mask.

"I'm perfectly fine," she said, brushing my hand away. A tear ran down her cheek. "How much of that did you see?"

"Enough to make me want to kill him." I paused, taking her hand. "Does he do that often?" She quickly shook her head.

"This is the first time he's ever hit me. And honestly, I don't blame him. I married him, and yet, I can't seem to stay away from you." She drew her hand away. I did my best to appear calm, but inside I was in turmoil. What was she saying? Did she want me to leave her alone? I wouldn't have been able to bear it if she did.

"Do you want me to stay away from you?" I asked quietly.

"No," she said simply.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes." I pulled her close to me, arms tightly around her waist. If I had my way, I wouldn't have ever let her go.

It was when I realized she was crying that I released her.

"What's wrong?" She buried her face in my chest.

"I wish things weren't so damned complicated. I wish I could've been with you all this time. I wish…" I silenced her with a brief kiss.

"I know. I wish I were a better man, and that I could take care of you properly." She looked up at me.

"I love you, Erik. Don't doubt that. But I fear love isn't enough. I've been foolish. After Mother's funeral," her voice cracked on the words, "I will be forced to leave with Alexandre, with only the memory of you to sustain me." I cupped her cheek, my thumb tracing her lips.

"No. That's not the only choice. If you're willing, you could stay. Divorce him." She didn't respond. "Or we could leave New York and go somewhere new. Bring your sister if she wants. It's not too late."

"I can't. I can't do that to him. Erik, you weren't there all those years. What we shared…What we share…He loves me, and I love him. He's been an exceptional husband, gentle and kind. He never laid a hand on me until a few moments ago." I sighed in frustration.

"Forget him for a moment. Do you love me? Do you really love me?" She nodded.

"Of course I do."

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"It's not about what I want…"

"Yes or no, Marie?" She hesitated.

"Yes," she said finally.

"Then, by God, we will be together."

"No. It's not that simple."

"It could be," I whispered, "if you let it." She closed her eyes as I leaned down, parting her lips slightly. I pulled her to me once more, pulling out the pins in her hair. I much preferred her hair down, her blonde curls free.

Then the door began to creak open. We quickly parted and I hid behind a large plant where I was certain I wouldn't be seen. I saw her husband step onto the balcony.

Once again, I found myself in the awkward position of watching the couple interact while I hid only inches away.

"I'm sorry, Marie. I hate myself for hurting you. Please, mon amour, please forgive me." She glared at him coldly.

"Thank you for your apology. You are forgiven. I understand that my actions were very out of line. I can only pray that you'll forgive me." He kissed the cheek that he had bruised.

"It isn't your fault. I was foolish for taking my anger out on you. He's the one I should be hitting, not you. If he would stay out of things long enough for you to forgive me, I'm positive that whatever power he has over you would be diminished by our love." She glanced at the ground. "When your mother's funeral is finished, I'm taking you far away from here. Somewhere he'll never find you." I saw the panic flash in her eyes.

"I can't leave Meg."

"We'll bring her and Nichole."

"Like hell either will go anywhere with you. While I've forgiven you, they haven't and likely never will."

"I know. But…"

"We should rest. I find myself very exhausted after the day's events." He nodded and extended his hand to her. She shook her head.

"I need a moment. Go ahead. I'll be in soon." When he had gone, she whispered my name once.

"I'm here, ma cherie." I emerged from my hiding spot. She threw her arms around me, bursting into tears.

"Don't let him take me away. Please." I kissed the top of her head.

"I won't. I swear to God that I won't."

"I wish you could hold me all night. I feel safe in your arms." My heart soared at her words. She truly loved me.

The euphoric effects of morphine were nothing compared to what I felt in that moment.

"I have to go. He'll become suspicious if I stay out here too long." I nodded and let her go. She pulled me down for a kiss. "Bonne nuit."

"Bonne nuit."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Have you guys ever heard of The Phantom Reviewer? He's a YouTuber and he's reviewed almost every Phantom movie/TV show ever. You guys should totally check him out if you haven't already. :)**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	18. Chapter 17: Conflicted Thoughts

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 17: Conflicted Thoughts

 **Author's Note: I'm sorry about the late update; my WiFi went out. I just about freaked out.**

 **Special thanks to Leafpool16985, Dove13, TheShyShadow, and Sketch1997 for following TMOTN,**

 **to TheShyShadow for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to TheShyShadow for following me,**

 **to TheShyShadow and Sketch1997 for favoriting me,**

 **and to grapejuice101, _Aka_Geek_, michellecarriveau, and Child of Music and Dreams for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: LOL, sorry for the wait! Here you go!**

 **_Aka_Geek_: You're really random; I like you!**

 **michellecarriveau: Alexandre's been giving me a headache. I sort of hate him too right now. But YASSSSS, Erik/Marie returns!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Marie: ...Why you hate meeeeeee? Erik: Girl, you better not! Me: I think Marie's been through enough. Especially with the other thing I haven't yet revealed.**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

When I walked back inside, I barely heard my husband's inquiry. My head was spinning, as it usually did when I had a prolonged encounter with Erik. He didn't want Christine. He wouldn't leave me. A smile spread across my face.

"Marie." I was snapped out of my thoughts and back into the world of my husband.

"What is it, dear?" I had to force myself not to snap at him. He gingerly touched the cheek he had slapped just moments before.

"Jesus Christ, Marie. I am so sorry. Please forgive me."

"I do."

"I will never forgive myself for this." I touched his hand, which still rested on my cheek.

"I understand why you did it. You're right. I married you, not him." He leaned down and attempted to kiss me, but I pulled away from him. It no longer seemed right to let him kiss me.

"Marie…"

"I love you, Alexandre." He sighed.

"I'm keeping you away from him. If I have to stay with you twenty-four hours a day, dammit, I will."

"That's hardly necessary," I protested quietly. "He knows about his son. We both know that he's forgotten about me." He smiled sadly and took a step closer to me.

"I can only hope so." I turned away from him.

"I want to spend more time with Meg before we leave." Nicolas trotted over to me as I sat down on the bed. I gently petted his head and glanced up at Alexandre, who stared down at me sadly.

"Why did he ever have to lay eyes on you?" he asked, his voice filled with hopelessness. "Things would have been so much easier if he'd never spoken to you."

"Alexandre…" I didn't want to hurt him. I hated the idea of bringing him pain.

"Get some rest, mon amour." In a matter of moments, I was in bed with him next to me. I still loved him; of course I did. But as he held me on that dark Thursday night, I began to realize that I was no longer comforted by the feeling of his arms around me.

I wanted Erik to be there instead of Alexandre. I wanted to be his wife. God only knows why. I hadn't forgotten anything that had happened between us, good or bad. He was dangerous. He was unpredictable. He had a truly damnable temper. He had broken my heart without a second thought. He had killed God knows how many people. He was a drug addict. And worst of all, I had a sneaking suspicion that after he had truly bonded with Gustave, he would remember Christine and leave me again.

But I also saw love in his eyes when he looked at me that night and before. He was gentle and kind to me. He was the smartest man I'd ever met. He was incredibly handsome, despite what he said. And when I was with him, I felt alive.

I loved Erik, and I knew that I would not be able to leave Coney Island unless he was at my side.

"What are you thinking about?" My husband's voice brought me out of my thoughts. He pulled me closer to him.

"Nothing important."

"Is it about him?"

"No." His grip on my hand tightened significantly until it began to hurt. "Alexandre, you're hurting me." He instantly loosened his hold and kissed my hand apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I'm very angry, but not at you. I can never be angry at you." I was becoming overwhelmed by guilt. Alexandre had been the perfect husband for five years. He never laid a hand on me before that night, and he always treated me with respect. "Marie."

"I need some time away from everyone," I said quietly. "Away from Meg, you, Christine, and Erik. I can't think clearly."

"Alright. I understand." He brushed some hair from my face. "How much time do you need?"

"A day or two."

"After your mother's funeral, you will have all the time in the world to yourself." I could hear the pain in his voice.

"Thank you." It was all I could manage. Moments later, I felt myself fall into sleep.

When I awoke, Alexandre was gone.

* * *

 **Author's Note: By the way, guys, I have an extra nasty little surprise for you all, which will be revealed sometime in the next few chapters or so. Mwa ha ha!**

 **ALSO. I'm starting this new thing called 'Question of the Week.' I ask a question at the end of each chapter, and you answer it in a review! So here it goes...**

 **Question of the Week: Who is your favorite Phantom? It doesn't have to be a Phantom from the stage show, but it can be. :)**

 **Mine is a tie between Ramin Karimloo and John Owen Jones, though Lon Chaney was absolutely adorable!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	19. Chapter 18: Interruption

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 18: Interruption

 **Author's Note: Hi! I'm as grumpy as Alexandre right now! (Read on to find out why.) :)**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, IKhandoZatman, michellecarriveau, _Aka_Geek_, and iwillalwayslvu123 for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: He went home to go watch Netflix and eat junk food (kind of like me). :D**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: I personally love Leroux's Erik; can't hate the original. Gerik is cool too. :)**

 **IKhandoZatman: I haven't seen or heard Hugh or Norm as Erik, but I love Michael Crawford and listen to the original cast almost constantly.**

 **michellecarriveau: Ramin is the king of Phantoms. I haven't seen Charles Dance, but it's on my list. As for Erik and Marie, they are officially back together!**

 **_Aka_Geek_: Don't worry. It'll be a boom. :) And yes, both Ramin and Lon are amazing!**

 **iwillalwayslvu123: Gerik was pretty good, in my opinion. :)**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

I couldn't bear to go back home that night. Not when my Marie was only a few yards away.

I silently opened the balcony door and stepped inside their hotel room. There she was. Sleeping, perfect in every way, but curled up beside _him._ Once again I found myself incredibly jealous of Alexandre Levesque.

Slowly I crept towards her. I brushed some of the hair from her face. I traced her scars with my index finger. She shivered; whether it was from the cold air that I had let in when I entered or my touch itself, I wasn't certain.

"I love you," I whispered. She let out a small sigh, and I allowed myself to smile. Perhaps one day I would be able to hold her.

I'm certain I stood there several hours, just watching her sleep. Eventually her husband stirred, and I hid under the bed. I suppressed a groan; I was far too old for that sort of thing. I could hear him dress, and finally, he murmured a quiet goodbye to Marie and then left the hotel room. I crawled out from under the bed and again found myself staring at Marie. Her big blue eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. I reached down to touch her cheek.

"Erik," she whispered. I leaned down.

"What is it, mon amour?" I asked quietly. She opened her eyes.

"You're really here?" she asked.

"I'm here."

"W-Where's Alexandre?"

"He left not too long ago. I don't know where he's gone." She sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I need to find him."

"Why?"

"I need to talk to him." I sighed.

"About what?"

"That's not your concern."

"It might be." She sighed as she got off the bed.

"Trust me, it's not. Not yet anyway." I decided to let it go for the time being, but ask her about it later.

"Come with me, Marie," I said, approaching her. She kept her back to me.

"I can't. Not right now." She opened the closet in the room and chose a cream colored gown. "Do you mind?" she asked, glancing at the changing screen.

"Of course." I walked back onto the balcony, and in a few moments she joined me. She looked beautiful, her hair in a simple, neat braid. She was in the process of tying her mask. I took it from her.

"Erik," she started. I silenced her with a kiss, savoring the intoxicating scent of her lavender perfume. "We can't keep doing this."

"Yes, we can." She moved a few feet away, taking her mask out of my hand.

"I'm a horrible person," she whispered, positioning the black porcelain on her face and carefully tying the ribbons.

"Why would you think such a thing?" I asked, taking a step toward her.

"My mother just died, and I'm kissing a man who isn't my husband. Good God, I'm practically your mistress!"

"No, you're not." I lifted her chin and pressed my lips to hers once more. "I should've been the one you married."

"You would have, had you asked. I would've done anything for you. I still would."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Leave him. Stay here with me. We'll be married, possibly have children." She sighed and turned away from me, and I knew she was hiding something important.

"I should go look for Alexandre. And if I heard correctly, you should retrieve Gustave relatively soon." I had nearly forgotten about that.

"Yes, of course." She turned and began to walk away. "I love you." She smiled, but her eyes held a sadness that made my heart break.

"I love you too." She walked back inside and closed the door behind her.

I quickly returned to my office at Phantasma and sent for Fleck, Squelch, and Gangle. When the trio appeared in the doorway, I ordered them to retrieve Gustave and take him to my house. They left and I returned to my home, where I changed my clothes and combed my hair.

While I waited for them to bring the boy to me, I couldn't help but think of Marie. I had asked her to leave her husband. How foolish could I possibly get? God only knew she would never leave her husband for me.

Perhaps she would…one day. But I had most likely frightened her by mentioning it. I had asked too much of her too soon.

It was the sudden knock on my front door that brought me out of my thoughts. He was here. My son was here!

Doing my best to compose myself, I approached the door with caution. I opened it, revealing my three most trusted assistants and my son.

His mass of soft brown hair, exactly the shade of his mother's, glistened in the sunlight. The boy looked up at me, an expression of shy curiosity on his pale face. I noticed that behind his long, almost feminine eyelashes, were two piercing green orbs that were nearly identical to my own. When I looked at the child, my breath was nearly taken away. And then he did the most peculiar thing.

Gustave de Chagny smiled at me.

"Welcome, young Vicomte," I said, stepping to the side. "Come in." The boy slowly walked inside my home. "Come with me. I would like to show you something." He followed me to my music room. It had been mostly unused until a few days ago, and when I had used it, destruction had followed. I couldn't compose without my muse, and whatever I played sent me into a dark melancholy that had lasted for days.

" _What is this place?"_ he asked innocently. He glanced around, then fixed his stare on the piano in the center of the room.

" _This is my realm, illusion's domain, where music, and beauty, and art are first rate."_

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the piano. I nodded.

"Does the young Vicomte play?" He sat on the bench and began to play a song I had never heard before. "What's this?"

" _Just a song in my head."_

"Go on."

" _I think it's beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful notes. Beautiful, beautiful sounds. Don't you agree?"_ I stood behind him, and carefully, very carefully, laid my hand on his small head. He could've only been four years old. _"It's beautiful."_

"This boy," I murmured.

" _So very beautiful."_

"This music…"

" _Music that comes uncontrolled…"_ I watched his tiny fingers float across the keys.

"He plays like me."

" _Floating, and lovely, and bold."_ I was about to speak, when I heard a knock on my door. Annoyed, I excused myself and opened the door. Alexandre Levesque stood before me, overcoat abandoned, cravat untied, shirt crumpled, strands of hair clinging to his face with sweat as if he'd run the entire way here. Judging by his heavy, labored breathing, he probably had.

"Can I help you, monsieur?" I asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.

"What did you do to her?" he seethed through gritted teeth. My heart began to race. Was Marie hurt?

"What are you talking about?" My voice had taken on a painfully bored tone.

"As if you didn't know," he snarled. "My wife has asked me for a divorce."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, recently I wrote a Phantom parody of a certain song from Monty Python's _Spamalot,_ featuring none other than the beloved Persian, Nadir. :) If you're interested in reading it, you can get it from my profile (or dig around through the POTO book subcategory). #shamelessadvertising**

 **Question of the Week: Who is your favorite Christine?**

 **Mine has to be Sierra Boggess. She has an excellent voice, and her acting is perfect. :)**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	20. Chapter 19: Beautiful Truth

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 19: Beautiful Truth

 **Author's Note: I know this is a shorter chapter, but I have another one that's ready to go, and I'll probably put that one up tomorrow. :)**

 **Special thanks to Shiranai Atsune for following TMOTN and me,**

 **and to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: The intensity increases with every passing moment. ;)**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Emmy wasn't bad; I just prefer Sierra. :)**

 **michellecarriveau: That nasty little secret is revealed next chapter, if I'm not mistaken. Don't quote me on that; I might be mistaken. XD**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

I sat on the bed in our hotel room, holding a nearly empty glass of wine. My hands were shaking, and I was sobbing quietly. Over two hours ago I had asked my husband for a divorce, and I took no pleasure in doing so. Alexandre sat across from me, rubbing his temples in agitation. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Why?" he asked finally, his voice full of pain. He stood. "Marie, I know you're hurt right now. And I know you're still angry with me. You have every right to be. But please don't do this. P lease don't leave me. I need you more than you'll ever know."

"I'm sorry," I whispered softly. "It's not that I don't love you…"

"Then what is it?" he snapped. "If you love me, why do you insist on this?" He shook his head when I began to answer. "Erik." I glanced up at him. It was the first time I'd ever heard him use Erik's actual name.

"I don't expect you to understand…"

"Good, because I never will. How someone as perfect as you could love someone as disgusting and vile as him is a bloody mystery to me!"

"You don't know him like I do."

"You barely know him! Please, Marie, I'll forget this ever happened if you'll just stay with me. It'll be as if nothing changed. Just stay." I stood and reached out to touch his cheek. I brought him in for one chaste, final kiss. He placed his hands on my waist. The hands that wiped away my tears. The hands that held me close while I cried.

"I do love you, Alexandre," I whispered when we parted. A tear slid down his cheek. I attempted to wipe it away, but he grabbed my wrist.

"How am I supposed to let you go?" he asked angrily. He bowed his head, trying to fight off more tears. I felt my heart begin to break. "A few months ago everything was perfect. We shouldn't have come here." I gently touched his cheek, and he looked up at me.

"You shouldn't have lied," I said quietly.

"You're right. If your mother and sister knew you were alive they would've stayed in Paris, and he would've come here alone. You would've had your family, and I would still have you." I kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand gently.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?" he choked.

"Not yet," I said with a sad smile.

"One day I know you'll realize that he's not good. When you do, I'll be waiting. I told you years ago that I would always wait for you." I began to weep again. "Shh. Don't cry. You'll be doing enough of that later. I can't bear it." The funeral was that day.

"Alexandre…"

"Hush. I'm here."

* * *

Three hours later I was attending my mother's funeral. Meg launched herself at me the moment she saw me, and I couldn't help but break down when I saw her.

"Marie, she's gone. I can't believe she's gone." I nodded and brushed the hair from my sister's face.

"I know. It's not fair. Not at all." I looked over Meg's shoulder to see Alexandre and Raoul chatting. When I turned around I saw Erik standing right behind me with sad eyes. I suppressed the urge to jump into his arms and allow him to kiss me and hold me. "Erik." He pulled me into his arms in a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry." The moment our lips met, my sister exclaimed in disgust.

"Stop!" We instantly broke apart. I looked at my sister, whose jaw was nearly to the floor. "Marie, am I missing something?" Erik's gaze fell from Meg to the floor.

"Meg, can we discuss this later? Perhaps tomorrow?" I asked quietly. She looked at Erik, then at me, before nodding. Erik took my hand and began to lead me away.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"I need to talk to you."

"About what?" He remained silent until we were out of the church. "Erik, I can't miss the funeral!"

"You won't. You actually asked your husband for a divorce?" I froze before speaking.

"I did. How did you…?" I was interrupted by his lips meeting mine with bruising force. His hands found my waist, and mine found his face.

"Your husband told me," he whispered. He buried his face in my hair. "Thank you."

"Marie!" I broke away from Erik to see Alexandre, looking heartbroken. "Come on. It's about to start." I glanced at Erik, who nodded encouragingly. He looked very annoyed by Alexandre's intrusion.

"I love you," I whispered so that Alexandre wouldn't hear and followed my husband into the church, Erik right behind me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yeah, I'll probably end up updating again tomorrow, so look forward to it, kids!**

 **And we have TWO questions this week! Yay!**

 **Question 1: Who is your favorite Raoul?**

 **Mine is a tie between Hadley Fraser and John Barrowman. For John , it might be partially because I also love _Arrow_ and _Doctor Who._**

 **Question 2: Do any of you have a Polyvore account?**

 **I do, obviously, or I wouldn't have asked. I ask because I have most, if not all of Marie's outfits on there, if anybody's interested. I'm on there as the-puppeteer-patient-120402. (Again with the advertising; I need to stop).**

 **If you don't have an account, but are interested in either fashion or art, you should totally join. It's really fun. :)**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	21. Chapter 20: Marie's Secret

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 20: Marie's Secret

 **Author's Note: I forgot to tell you guys. As of last chapter we are exactly halfway through TMOTN. Bittersweet, isn't it?**

 **By the way, my grandma (AKA my editor) told me with slight disdain that this chapter is 'gooey.' So, be looking forward to that. XD**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Okay! Here!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: 'The Vicomte le Fop.' I love it! Yeah, I get where you're coming from, but I respect both Leroux and Lloyd Webber to hate Raoul.**

 **michellecarriveau: AGONY THAT CAN CUT LIKE A KNIIIIIIIFE! *sigh* I love musicals.**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

I left the funeral in tears, and only part of it was caused by my friend's death. Marie had been sobbing violently the entire time, and it killed me to see her like that. The worst part was that I had no clue how to comfort her. Wrap my arms around her like her husband was doing?

That made my blood boil. He dared to touch her, to hold her? She was mine and mine alone!

I watched as she rested her head on his shoulder. She felt safe with him. She trusted him. I wondered if she felt the same about me. If she felt safe with me, if she felt loved.

"Erik!" a voice called after the funeral was over. I looked over my shoulder to see Marie hurrying toward me, holding her black parasol over her head. It had been drizzling all day, not pouring, and not sprinkling. A miserable median that nearly sickened me.

She threw her arms around me with a force that nearly made me fall over. I had to restrain myself from kissing her senseless, though I doubted one was capable of kissing anyone senseless. She was actually going to leave her husband for me. For _me._

"Erik, I need to get away from everyone."

"Even me?" I asked.

"No. Not you. Never you." I felt the familiar itch for morphine plague me again, but it was silenced as I felt her pink lips brush against mine, ever-so-slightly.

"Come with me." She placed her hand in mine. I noticed that it was covered by a lacy black glove. I led her to my 'horseless carriage.' After making certain she was comfortable inside, I ordered the driver to take us to my house before getting in myself.

"I'm certain I'll sound like a fool when I ask this, but how does it work?" she asked once we were moving. I inched closer to her, smiling.

"There is nothing foolish about asking questions, my dear. It only shows that you are eager to learn." I stroked her unmarred cheek with my knuckles, causing her to shiver slightly. "It runs on fuel. I designed it myself." She touched my hand, which still rested on her cheek.

"You're a genius."

"So I've been told." She gazed at me through her long eyelashes, making the temptation to kiss her more strong than ever. I traced the edge of her mask with my index finger. Then, carefully, gently, I reached behind and untied the black ribbons. Her breath hitched. "You never have to hide yourself from me." I pulled the porcelain from her face and allowed her to do the same for me. She caressed my deformed cheek before kissing me.

This was not a kiss of pity, as Christine's had been the night of _Don Juan Triumphant._ It was a kiss of love and adoration. I leaned into it, savoring it as though I would never receive another. I pulled her as close to me as physically possible. Her blue eyes were closed, and after a few moments, I allowed mine to close as well.

"Erik," she murmured. I finally opened my eyes, noticing that her hair was still pinned up. I'd have to do something about that.

"Black isn't a flattering color on you, mon amour. You look much better in bright, beautiful colors," I said, pulling the pins from her golden locks.

"The opposite is true for you. You look like a dark king in black." Before I could respond, we stopped. I picked up my mask and hastily placed it over my face again. She began to replace hers, but I stopped her.

"If you're worried about someone seeing you, there's no one inside. Only us." She nodded, but still covered her face with her hand. When we got inside, I led her to my music room, and sat her down at the piano. "Wait here. I believe someone wants to see you," I said with a grin. A look of panic entered her eyes, and she one again attempted to replace the mask. "Relax. It's fine. You can leave it off."

I left the room and walked up to my barely used bedroom. There, sprawled across my bed, was the only lady I'd been in close contact with for the past five years. I scooped her into my arms, allowing a smile at her quiet protest of _meow._ I brought her back downstairs. I sat on the bench beside Marie, whose eyes lit up when she saw who I was holding.

"Ayesha! Oh, darling, it's been too long!" I smiled again as I passed the cat to the woman who held my heart. For the first time in years, I felt truly happy!

Ayesha purred as Marie began to pet her, and the latter laughed quietly before meeting my gaze again.

"What will happen once I've divorced Alexandre?" she asked with a twinge of sadness in her light soprano. I was quickly becoming determined to make her forget him once she was rid of him.

"That depends on you," I said, knowing I would have to choose my words carefully. "What do _you_ want?" She sighed.

"I want to marry you, if you want to be married."

"Oh, yes!" I exclaimed like a giddy child. She was actually willing! She _wanted_ to marry me! "What else? Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" She sighed dreamily.

"I don't care where I am as long as I'm with you." My heart melted more with every passing moment.

I then made the mistake of asking her another question, one that was likely too sudden.

"What about children?" A sad, distant look entered her eyes, and she remained completely silent. She allowed Ayesha to jump off of her lap. "Marie, what's wrong?"

"N-Nothing. You were saying?"

"Marie, what is it? You can tell me anything." She shook her head.

"It's nothing, really. Please, continue." I recalled the last time I mentioned children she had a similar reaction.

"Marie, you're hiding something. I won't be upset. I promise." She stared up at me with those big blue eyes.

"Please don't make me say it."

"I want to know." Then she did the most dreadful thing.

She began to cry. Harder than at the funeral. Harder than when I'd forced her to tell me about what exactly had happened to her. Harder than the night of the masquerade.

"Marie." I reached out to wipe her tears away, but she swatted my hand away, then launched herself from her seat and to the other side of the room.

"I can't have children!" she blurted, then collapsed onto her knees, sobs wracking her now frail-looking body.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Since I gave you _two_ questions yesterday, there will be none today.**

 **But in any case, see you next week!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	22. Chapter 21: Shot Heard Round the World

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 21: The Shot Heard 'Round the World

 **Author's Note: I totally meant to update yesterday, but then I had rehearsals...then I had to dye my hair...then I had a sleepover...As you can see, it didn't happen. In any case, Happy (although belated) Halloween!**

 **Special thanks to kal power for following and favoriting TMOTN and me,**

 **and to grapejuice101 and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Marie's just like, "I know! Life sucks." And then there's me just giggling and being all "Hey, it got Erik to hold you!"**

 **michellecarriveau: Oh, don't you 'poor Marie' me! Erik's gonna shower her in hugs and kisses and flowers and rainbows. She's just fine! Same to you, grapejuice101!**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

I was angry at him. He had forced me to tell him. I hadn't wanted to; I had made it very clear that I hadn't wanted to, and yet, he still made me.

"Marie, dear God, I'm so sorry," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper. I hadn't realized he'd moved from his seat at the beautiful piano until I felt his arms wrapped tightly around me. "I shouldn't have forced you."

"I wouldn't have kept it from you forever," I choked through sobs. "I would've told you eventually. Why did you make me right _now?_ " I slowly allowed myself to wrap my arms around his neck. He pressed a gentle kiss to my tear-stained cheek.

"This doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Erik, it changes everything. You want children, and I can't give you any," I said miserably. He shook his head.

"I want you more than anything or anyone else."

"Erik, when…when Christine was pregnant with Gustave, I always said that I would never have children. I hated the idea of it, mostly because of pregnancy itself. But years later, when Alexandre and I decided we wanted a family, I found that I'm barren. It's my fault…" He silenced me immediately and removed his white mask.

"Nothing is your fault, Marie. Especially not that." He kissed my cheek and led me out of the music room and into the parlor. We sat on his sofa, and I allowed myself to be enveloped by his strong arms. "Stay with me." I lifted my head and looked into his green eyes. They pleaded with me, and I knew that for the life of me I couldn't refuse.

"Alright. I'll stay." For how long, I didn't know. Quite frankly, I didn't care.

"Marie, it doesn't matter to me. I love you, and that will never change." I said nothing, but rested my head on his chest. I remembered the month I had stayed with him. I missed those days. Everything was much simpler.

"What became of Nadir?" I asked suddenly. Erik looked down at me in surprise.

"I'm not entirely certain. We didn't part on the best terms."

"But he's alright?" I asked. Erik nodded.

"I assume he's still lurking about in Paris. Why do you ask?" he asked, a twinge of jealousy in his melodic voice.

"Just wondering. I miss Paris."

"As do I. Perhaps we could return soon."

"But you're a wanted man." He smirked into my hair.

"When has that ever stopped me?" I laughed quietly, then realized how cold it actually was inside. Though I tried not to, I couldn't keep from shivering. Erik immediately spoke.

"My apologies. I forget how cold it can be in here." He released me and stood. "I'll start a fire." Start a fire he did. I watched as he took off his overcoat and rolled up his sleeves. I noticed no blue marks on his arms that time. I stood and walked over to him. The fireplace conveniently already had wood in it. Just as he was about to start the fire, I touched his arm. He looked back at me, and I quickly remembered how things had been years ago.

"Kiss me," I whispered.

"You know I can't deny you anything," he said with a hint of a smirk. He leaned down, his index finger tracing my scarred cheek. I closed my eyes, and after what seemed like a lifetime, I felt his lips press against mine. He took my hand and brought it up to his face.

"I wish it could always be like this," I whispered breathlessly.

"It can be," he whispered. "It will be." I remembered Alexandre earlier that morning, how utterly broken he was. "What's wrong?"

"I feel terrible for doing this. I've hurt Alexandre so badly." He sighed deeply.

"Are you certain you want to continue? If you change your mind, I understand." I shook my head.

"Erik, I love him. I won't say that I don't." He grunted. "But I love you so much more."

"Say it again," he murmured. "I want to make sure I'm not dreaming."

"I love you, Erik." I paused. "I wish I could stay forever."

"You'll be able to soon enough."

"Open this door, **you** bastard!" came the drunken cry from outside Erik's house. I immediately recognized the voice as Raoul's. Erik sighed.

"Should I?" he asked, almost to himself.

"Don't. He'll leave eventually." Erik nodded in agreement.

"I know you have her in there!" came a new, equally slurred voice. Alexandre's. "Let her go! For God's sake, let her go!" I cursed quietly. Erik stared at me, clearly amused.

"I don't believe I've ever heard a lady use that word," he smirked.

"Shut up!" I whispered. He laughed quietly.

"Marie! Dammit, let her go!" Erik shook his head, almost to himself.

"I don't think I can. Especially with his current state." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to my lips. "Go back to the music room. I'll speak to them."

"Will you be alright?" I asked.

"I'll be perfectly fine. I've handles better trained drunkards in my time," he said with a teasing smirk. I squeezed his hand, then made my way back to the music room.

I don't know how long I was in there or what exactly transpired between the Vicomte, my husband, and Erik. But I can perfectly remember the gunshot that rang out in the otherwise dead silence, followed by Erik's brief cry of pain.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And it's so easy when you're evil. This is the life, you see. The devil tips his hat to me...**

 **Hey there, folks! If you can guess that song without using Google, you get a virtual piece of cake.  
**

 **Question of the Week: What is your favorite Halloween costume _that you've worn?_**

 **Mine is probably the genderbent Arkham Asylum Scarecrow I did last year.**

 **Again, Happy Belated Halloween!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	23. Chapter 22: The Other Giry

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 22: The Other Giry

 **Author's Note: Dude, I swear to God that on my Thanksgiving break I'm doing daily updates like I did in the summer, because this once a week thing is crap.**

 **Special thanks to ImagineDaydreams for following TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Um... *scoots away slowly* Nothing...**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: So I've been told. ;)**

 **michellecarriveau: Sorry! Gosh, I just keep punching the feels, don't I? XD And I'll accept that crown with dignity. I'm saving my Christine cosplay for when I have an Erik to go with me, but alas. Which costume did you do (Hannibal, Don Juan Triumphant, Masquerade, etc.)?**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

That bastard had shot me in the side. I felt myself fall to the wooden floor in the entryway, hearing a scream from the music room. In a matter of moments, I felt Marie collapse beside me.

"Erik, oh my God!" She clutched my hand. "Erik, look at me." I opened my eyes and met hers. I noticed that she now wore her mask. I reached out to touch her, but Fleck, Gangle, and Squelch appeared in the doorway. "Go get help!" Marie cried. They paused for a moment but did as she asked, stumbling to the door in a mad frenzy. They were some of the only people I knew I could trust, besides Marie. I had trusted Antoinette, but she was gone now.

"M-Marie," I stammered, finding it almost difficult to speak.

"I'm here, Erik," she whispered, holding my hand. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Put pressure on it." She nodded, and with shaking hands, applied pressure on the wound. I hissed at the pain, and I could tell she wanted to stop. "Perfect."

"I am so sorry, Erik."

"No. This is not your fault. It's mine. I should've been prepared."

"Which one of them was it?" she asked gently.

"Your husband." A look of pure anger crossed her features. "He didn't know you were here." I closed my eyes.

"Erik, don't. Focus on me. Look at me." I did, and felt her lips brush across mine. We spoke softly to each other for a few moments, until I heard my three most trusted friends nearing the still-open door.

"You have to leave. People will talk."

"Let them talk. I'm not leaving you for anything." It occurred to me then that she was jeopardizing her reputation, even her relationship with Meg for me.

"Madam, if you would stand aside," said an unfamiliar voice. Marie glanced down at me, but stood and took a few steps back. She stared down at me, eyes wide.

I fought to stay awake, to be able to assure her that I would be fine, but slowly I felt myself slip into a dreamless sleep that seemed to last forever.

* * *

I awoke in total darkness. I knew immediately that I was in my own bedroom. My mask was off and I realized soon that I wore no shirt. I attempted to sit up, but the searing pain in my side sent me reeling back onto the bed. I groaned in pain. Ah, yes. Now I remembered perfectly. I had been shot by that boy to whom Marie had attached herself.

"Erik," the woman I loved whispered, hope lacing her soprano. "Are you awake?"

"M-Marie," I returned as evenly as possible. At the sound of my voice, Marie found my lips in the darkness and pressed her own to them almost painfully.

"Oh God, I thought you weren't going to wake up!" she whispered when she pulled away. I felt the bed shift as she sat down beside me. She took my hand and squeezed it tightly. I realized that she was crying.

"I'm fine, mon amour. Come closer." She placed herself as closely to me as possible without touching me. I tried to sit up to kiss her, but she placed a hand on my chest and gently pushed me back down, pressing an apologetic kiss to my unmasked cheek.

"Sorry, darling, I can't let you get up." Darling. She called me darling. Perhaps being bedridden wouldn't be so bad if she'd stay here.

"Can I sit?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not. The stitches…" I touched my side, and suddenly remembered that I was shirtless. I felt very naked in that moment.

"Of course," I 'groaned' in a perhaps overly dramatic manner. No matter; she didn't seem to notice my exaggeration.

"I'm so sorry about this, Erik. It's my fault."

"No, it's not. I promise you that it's not your fault." I took her hand and kissed it gently.

"I'll have to leave in a few hours," she said in a melancholy tone. I let out a real groan this time. "I have a husband to throttle." I smirked at the thought, not that she could've seen.

"Must you go? Take care of him later. Take care of me now." She sighed and let herself slide into my arms, head against my chest.

"I have to. But I'll be back very soon. I promise." She ran her fingers through my hair. "I love you."

"I love you."

"Marie!" came a new, feminine voice. "Where the hell are you?"

"Meg," she whispered. "Damn." She began to move away, but I held her tightly to me. For the briefest moment, her hand was on my chest. "Erik, I promised I would talk to her." I sighed, but let her go. She stood, but bent down and kissed me again.

I could definitely get used to this.

All I heard from the two for several minutes was seemingly endless arguing. Eventually Marie returned to me.

"What was that about?" I asked gently.

"She doesn't want us to be together," she said softly.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I love you, and I want to be with you…but I also love Meg. And I want her to be happy."

"What does your heart tell you to do?" I inquired, reaching out to touch her.

"To stay with you in this room forever and never leave."

"Then stay." I saw her close her eyes. I had often resented being able to see in the dark, but this time I couldn't be more thankful that I could. I was able to see the small smile that graced her full lips as I touched her cheek. I was able to see the look of love and adoration that she gave me. I was able to see her blue eyes close as she kissed me.

"I can't. Not yet." She moved away from me, placing a final gentle kiss on my cheek. "I'll be back in a few hours. Do you need anything right now?"

"I need you to come back as soon as possible." She gave me a small smile, then, pulling on her shawl, left the room.

After Marie had left, Meg came to my room.

"Sir, it's about my sister." She suddenly looked very nervous, more than ever. "She really is better off with Monsieur Levesque. He loves her very dearly, despite what he's done, and he's done a perfect job of taking care of her."

"With all due respect, mademoiselle, what your sister does is her choice," I said softly.

"But her head's clouded. With Mother's death…She's still angry at Monsieur Levesque, and you were the first person to comfort her." She was right. Marie had been distracted. She needed someone to keep her sane, and no one else could. But she wasn't thinking clearly when she agreed to leave her husband for me. How could she? "You'll only ever hurt her, and I can't bear to see her brokenhearted again. It was absolutely dreadful the first time."

"What was she like after…?" I asked, trailing off. I didn't have the heart to finish the sentence.

"She wouldn't talk about you. She barely talked at all to anyone for a while, besides Monsieur Levesque. He was the only one who could make her smile. She dreamed about you too. She'd say your name in her sleep, beg for you to come back to her." I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. "God only knows what she was like after your God-forsaken opera. That's a question for Monsieur Levesque."

"I love her."

"But you don't deserve her."

"What do you suggest that I do?"

"Make her hate you. Break her heart. Ensure that she'll never go anywhere with you." I stared at her with wide eyes, unable to reply.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Whaddaya gonna do, bruh?**

 **Question of the Week: What's your favorite TV show(s)?**

 **Mine are _Sherlock, Doctor Who, Arrow, Flash, Gotham, Wayward Pines, Walking Dead, The 100, Supernatural,_ and _Once Upon A Time._**

 **By the way, if you watch _Doctor Who, Walking Dead, The 100,_ and/or _Supernatural,_ don't expect me to be able to carry on a conversation about them. I'm on Season 4 of _Doctor Who,_ Season 2 of _The 100,_ and Season 1 of _Supernatural._ As for _Walking Dead,_ well, I don't have cable (Netflix and Hulu are life), so I can't watch TDW when it airs, but my dad downloads the episodes for free. We're planning on binging those over Christmas break.**

 **See you guys next week!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	24. Chapter 23: For the Sake of a Monster

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 23: For the Sake of a Monster

 **Author's Note: Whew, it feels good to be on break. For the first time since school started, I feel...happy. ( *-*)**

 **Special thanks to for following and favoriting TMOTN,**

 **and to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: Especially Erik. Erik never ever gets a break.**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: You are a murderous one, aren't you? ;)**

 **michellecarriveau: ...I'm jelly. I'm really jelly. As for Erik, well, you'll see what he does.**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

I opened the door of the hotel room, bursting in in a flurry of rage.

"Alexandre!" I shouted. I heard a groan from the water closet followed by the sound of retching. I stormed inside. "What the hell…?" He was sprawled across the floor, face slightly green.

"Little bit quieter, love," he groaned.

"You shot Erik!" His head snapped up.

"Is he…?" I shook my head.

"No. Wounded badly, but not dead, and not dying. No need to hide your disappointment." He stumbled in trying to stand.

"Marie…damn him! He said you weren't there! He promised!"

"What in God's name were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that maybe if he had died, you would come back to me! Please, Marie, before it's too late."

"Absolutely not! You lied to my family, you lied to me, and you shot the man I love!"

"I always thought that was me." I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Too much has happened. I can't…" I didn't finish my sentence. "I have to go."

"Marie!" I looked away as he retched into the porcelain bowl, then left the room. I could hear him stumble to get up, but I was far too angry to care. He eventually made his way into the bedroom of the suite, where I was packing my dresses back into my trunks. "Can we talk about this?"

"What exactly is there to talk about? We're getting a divorce, Alexandre. I might as well get out now." He rubbed his temples, attempting to ease the pounding in his head.

"Marie, I'm sorry." I paused.

"I have to go," I said finally. "Erik needs me…"

"I've only made it worse! What the hell was I thinking?" He stared down at me with those ocean-blue eyes. "You have to tell me. Do you still love me?" His eyes pleaded with me to tell him that I did.

"I daresay I always will," I muttered honestly.

"But not enough to stay."

"It's much more complicated…" He stopped me, grabbing my elbow.

"Is it?" I glanced down at his hand.

"Let me go."

"No."

"Please."

"If I let you go, you'll run off to him. Marie, I can't…" He paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a couple seconds. "I can't bear to lose you." I touched his cheek gently, letting some of my anger diminish.

"I'm sorry, darling, but you already have." He leaned in to kiss me, but I placed two fingers on his lips to stop him. "Perhaps if you hadn't…" He let out a quiet, clearly forced laugh.

"Of course. How foolish of me."

"When you're…feeling better," I said after a few moments of silence, "I'll return to finish collecting my things." He nodded, offering a sad smile.

"I always look forward to seeing you again." All anger died when he said those words. I pulled my shawl over my shoulders.

"Goodbye, Alexandre," I said softly. He let go of my elbow. I sighed as I left the room, thinking about everything Meg had said just a few hours ago. Did I really want to leave him? Did I want to leave the safety, the comfort he had given me relentlessly since we had begun our relationship?

No, I didn't. I didn't want to leave him at all…but my desire to be with Erik was much stronger.

As I left, I saw Raoul de Chagny in the corridor, approaching the inn room.

"Madame Levesque," he greeted, disgustingly polite.

"If you're going in there to plot more diabolical plans against _him,_ I suggest you leave."

"I assure you, Madame Levesque, that was not my intent. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He tried to brush past me, but I stopped him.

"I'm serious. As of now, he's still my husband, and…"

"And what? You've betrayed him in every way, madam, for the sake of a monster. The damage you've done is damn near irreparable. I suggest you either get out now and never return or go back in there and plead for forgiveness. I'm betting you'll go with the former." I was taken aback by his monologue and couldn't speak. "Good day, madam." And then he pushed past me and walked away.

When I was confident he had already entered the room, I returned to the door and listened.

"How did it go with your wife?" asked the Vicomte, already knowing the answer.

"How do you think?" responded my husband with a bitterness I'd never heard in his voice before. Not since he told me about his parents. "I'll never get her back. I only got her last time because he broke her heart. And this time she hates me. She's all but said so herself."

"Perhaps that's it. Perhaps he just needs to hurt her again for her to see what she's leaving. I've always told you that you spoiled her too much. She's come to expect it. See, you need to discipline your wife…"

"Like you do with Christine?" Alexandre retorted angrily. "This is where we differ, Raoul. Marie is not a child, and neither is Christine, and I refuse to treat either as such." There was a moment of silence between the two, and I briefly wondered if they would start arguing. "Anyway, he won't hurt her unless there's a distraction."

"Christine? If you think I will send my wife to that freak…"

"That's not what I was suggesting."

"Then what…?"

"Gustave."

"Why would my son be a distraction to him? Why does he care?" Alexandre, don't…

"Because Gustave isn't your son." I didn't hear Raoul's response, because someone behind me spoke.

"Eavesdropping isn't very becoming." I turned around to see a middle-aged, bigger woman looking at me pointedly.

"It-It's my husband."

"Worried he's cheating?" asked the woman, the innkeeper's wife, I learned later, in her thick Brooklyn accent.

"Ah, well, not exactly." She looked at me sympathetically.

"Just remember, sweetheart, all men are inconsiderate pigs."

"Duly noted, madam." She gave me a slight smile.

"Good luck, kid." Something about her red curls seemed very familiar.

"Excuse me, madam, I didn't catch your name." She smiled warmly at me.

"Olivia. Olivia Edwards."

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, just met Nichole's mom. She's fun. I think you'll like her.**

 **Question of the Week:**

 **Have you ever tried shawarma? I feel like Tony Stark asking that, I just really felt the need to ask.**

 **I, personally, love shawarma. We used to have a really good Mediterranean place in my town that served it, but they just closed a few months ago. My dad and I were so sad.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	25. Chapter 24: Knowledge

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 24: Knowledge

 **Author's Note: Slightly longer chapter for you guys. :) Sorry if it sucks; I've been sick, and it's hard for me to think a complete thought. Ugh. I feel like crap.**

 **Special thanks to grapejuice101, Child of Music and Dreams, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **grapejuice101: 'Beauty Underneath' will happen after Erik gets better, which will be a few chapters.**

 **Child of Music Dreams: Oh yeah, you do. XD I'm like that when, you know. :P**

 **michellecarriveau: Good ol' Alex just can't keep a secret, can he? And honestly, I wouldn't have tried it either if not for _Avengers._**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

I was lying in bed, contemplating Meg's words when the subject of my dreams walked into my bedroom. I was very happy to see Marie. She was the only one who could make me forget my sorrows.

"Marie, where have you been?" I asked when she closed the door. A smile crept onto her face.

"I had an early brunch with Nichole Edwards's mother."

"Her mother."

"It was coincidence that we even met."

"Do tell."

"I was…well, eavesdropping on my husband and the Vicomte discussing ways to separate us, and…"

"What were they saying?" I asked, interrupting her. She leaned down and touched my cheek gingerly.

"Madame Edwards pulled me away from the door before I really heard much, but they mentioned Christine. And Raoul's…your son." I sighed heavily.

"It seems as though the whole world's against us."

"What do you mean?" I mentally debated telling her. She would be furious if I didn't, and I did want to prove to her that I could be a better man for her, that I wouldn't lie to her.

"Well, ah, your sister came here about two hours ago. She suggested that I hurt you so badly that you run back to your husband with open arms. She suggested that I make you hate me." Marie's face darkened, and I reached out for her. She sat on the bed beside me, looking very angry. Her arms were crossed, her eyes were a much darker blue that usual. She looked like an avenging angel. I found the strength to sit up and kiss her cheek, ignoring the pain in my side. I wrapped my arms around her stomach.

"You should lie down, Erik," she muttered finally. "I don't want you to reopen that wound."

"Which one?" I asked softly.

"Either. Erik, please don't…"

"I won't." I didn't lay down, but I did lean against the bedframe. This seemed to please her enough. "Trust me."

"I do."

"She says you're distracted with everything else. Your mother, your husband…And that you weren't thinking clearly when you said you'd leave Monsieur Levesque."

"Meg doesn't understand. She never has, and I doubt she ever will. I love you, but if you've changed your mind about us, just tell me now before…" She stopped, and I could tell she was about to cry.

"There's something else, isn't there?" I asked. She shook her head, but I persisted. "You can tell me anything."

"Alexandre," she whispered. "I feel so guilty."

"I'd like to talk to him." She looked at me as if I was crazy.

"That's not wise! He just shot you!"

"I'll be fine, Marie. I promise." She sighed.

"Would you like me to retrieve him?" I nodded. She stood and kissed my unmarred cheek. "Are you certain you want to do this? I'm sure it can wait…"

"It can't," I said, harsher than I intended. She flinched and turned to leave. I managed to catch her hand. "I'm sorry." She forced a smile, and it was at that moment that I realized how stressed she was. She was still hurting from the death of her mother. She felt horrible for hurting her husband, and I saw the guilt in her eyes whenever we were together. I wondered if it would ever go away.

Her sister didn't approve of our relationship, and I could tell it was tearing her apart.

"Erik," she whispered. I pulled her by her hand closer to me.

"I want to kiss you," I murmured. "Badly." She closed her eyes and let me pull her in. I pressed my lips against hers, and in a matter of moments we had both forgotten everything, all the hurt, all the pain, all the stress. It was just us, and nothing else mattered. Her hands trailed around my face, neck, and shoulders. Mine explored her waist and back.

"I love you," she whispered when we broke apart to breathe. "Forget Alexandre for now. It surely can't be _that_ important. Just hold me." It was very tempting, but I wanted to learn more about her. I wanted to know things that she wouldn't tell me. Things that perhaps she herself didn't know.

"There's plenty of time for that, I assure you. Please." She stiffened but nodded. After brushing me away, she began to walk out of the room. "Marie." She turned around, a hopeful look in her eyes. "I love you." She turned away from me.

"You know I love you," she muttered before leaving.

Thirty-three minutes later she returned with her husband, who looked a little worse for wear.

"Thank you, Marie," I said, straightening my mask. "Leave us."

"I will not!" Marie cried.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it around _my wife._ " I glared at the boy. "Marie, stay here."

"Do not think you can command me, Monsieur Levesque," she bit out. "I'll go, but only because I will not have _him_ ordering me around like some lovesick dog."

"You mean like you did to me for years?" he returned with a snarl. I raised an eyebrow. Had it always been this bad or had something happened on their trek back to my house? I wondered.

My soon-to-be fiancé stormed out of the room, and I hoped she wasn't angry at _me_ for any reason.

"You can have her," Levesque growled. "I'm through being married to that little wench! I wish you the best of luck. God knows you'll need it." Despite the situation, I laughed. "Is this a damned joke to you?"

"Not at all. What did you do to her?"

"What did _I_ do?! Absolutely nothing! She's the problem!"

"Marie is perfectly polite and kind unless provoked." He snorted.

"Like you would know. Five years of marriage, and this is how she repays me!" Seeing that this was going nowhere, I changed the question.

"What did _she_ do?"

"Ask her yourself. Why did you drag me here?"

"I wanted to ask some questions about Marie."

"Again, ask her yourself."

"I don't think she could answer them, and even if she could, it would hurt her far too much." He sighed. "After the fire…after the Terror, what was she like?"

"On good says she would maybe speak a few words. Read her books, occasionally sit by the piano, tracing the keys absentmindedly. She never played anything." Most of the anger faded from his voice as he remembered.

"And on bad days?" I asked, worried for the answer.

"She'd say she could hear you playing the organ or violin. She thought she was going mad. I was worried myself." He paused. "But that wasn't all. She'd wake up at night screaming. Sometimes it was the Terror, others it was you."

"Me?" He nodded solemnly.

"Even after you were gone, you still tormented her. Things got better after a year or two, though she went into a deep depression after Gustave was born…I now know why."

"She told me that she can't have children."

"Oh, yes. She decided two years after Gustave's birth that she wanted children of her own. We tried for months, and eventually we went to a doctor when nothing happened. He told her that she can't have children. It tore her apart. She blames herself, even now." He paused. "She was fine, then Meg came. We know where that's gone," he said with a bitter laugh.

"I…"

"Don't say anything. Just take her. I can't stand this anymore." Though I would never admit it, my heart went out to him. I had, in essence, stolen his wife. I watched as he turned to leave. "I was prepared to fight for her. Now I see there's no point." He paused. "I still love her. If you hurt her, I swear to God that I will kill you."

"If I hurt her, I swear to God that I would let you." He scowled.

"I'm serious, monsieur."

"So am I."

"Alexandre, get the hell out of here," said a still-angry Marie from the doorway. "Now."

"As you wish, _dear,_ " he drawled with a scowl, though I could see the pain in his eyes. And in hers.

I watched as he brushed past her, the way she glanced at him sadly when he wasn't looking. I felt a pang of jealousy.

"Erik," Marie started.

"What did he do to you?" I asked. She stared at me for a moment.

"He…called me a less than kind name."

"What was it?" I ground out, beginning to consider murdering that boy.

"Don't make me repeat it," she said softly, tears forming in her eyes.

"Come here." She obeyed. "I won't force you to tell me, but I would like to know why I'm going to kill this boy," I said with a small smile, only half-joking. I vowed to kill any man who brought tears to my Marie's eyes, even if it was myself. She let out a soft laugh.

"He's right…"

"I have a decent idea of what he said, and Marie, it's not true. You are the purest angel in the heavens, and, God knows I don't deserve it, but somehow you're mine." She sighed.

"I should change your bandages." She didn't believe me. How could she not see how wonderful she was?

I watched silently as she gathered the supplies she needed. The instant she came close enough, I took her wrist and gripped it tight enough so that it didn't hurt her, but I got her undivided attention.

"I'm serious, Marie. If you were some common whore, I wouldn't have spent so much damned time pining after you." I wouldn't be able to stand it if she developed a bad picture of herself in her mind just because some young fool called her a nasty name. I knew all too well how one's perspective of himself could be changed by a few words from someone close to them.

"That's not all, Erik. Things were said by him…by me."

"What else did he say? As your husband, I have the right to know."

"You're not my husband," she said, the faintest smile gracing her lips.

"Not yet," I agreed. She smirked slightly, then pulled the blanket down, exposing my bare chest and stomach. Nervous and slightly embarrassed, I crossed my arms in what I hoped was a cool, nonchalant manner.

She gingerly removed the bandages, being as gentle as humanly possible, but it still hurt like hell.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She carefully placed new bandages on the wound, letting her hand linger on my stomach for a moment longer than necessary. I glanced up at her. "What did you and Alexandre talk about?" she asked. I'd been dreading the question, because I didn't know quite how to respond.

"Marie, there are a lot of things I don't know about you. Things I doubt you even know about yourself."

"Try me. What did you ask him?" Her tone was surprisingly calm.

"I inquired as to what you were like after the fire and after the Terror."

"I was hurt, more brokenhearted than I ever dreamed possible. It was difficult. I couldn't remember a lot of things, then they all came crashing down on me at once. Dealing with the burns wasn't the worst, surprisingly. It was the knowledge that my family had left me to go God knows where with you. But that was long before I learned that Alexandre lied to me." It hurt her badly to remember, and this was another reason I didn't want to ask her.

"Marie, if I could change the past…"

"But you can't," she said sharply, and I realized that even if she loved me, she still resented me for everything I had done to her. "When Christine told me that she…you had…it nearly destroyed me. That while I was dying in that hospital, you were…" She closed her eyes, and I knew that my comfort wouldn't help her much.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could manage.

"When Gustave was born, it was obvious who the father was, at least to Christine and me. Raoul and Alexandre were oblivious." She paused, wiping away a tear that managed to escape. "Anyway, my point is that you could've just asked me. I…I'd like to visit Mother's grave. I'll send for someone to take care of you."

"It's not necessary." To my chagrin, she didn't argue.

"Very well. Goodbye, Erik." Her tone unnerved me. It sounded much too final.

"Goodbye." But she had already gone.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Ooh, angst! :P**

 **Like I said, it's hard for me to think a solid thought, let alone write it down, so sorry if this chapter sucked. I'll probably go back and change it when I'm feeling better.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	26. Chapter 25: Severed Ties

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 25: Severed Ties

 **Author's Note: Happy (late) Thanksgiving, guys! Sorry for the late update. I had family in town and barely any time to sit down and write. Good news is that I'm feeling a lot better.**

 **Special thanks to Child of Music and Dreams and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: *hands CoMaD a tissue***

 **michellecarriveau: Oh, don't worry. It's not. Not yet, anyway... MWAH HA HA! *starts coughing really hard* Still not quite entirely over that horrible cold.**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

As I left Erik's house, I began to cry. I recalled my fight with Alexandre, and I knew that it was over for us.

 _~Forty-Five Minutes Earlier~_

I knocked on the door to our inn room.

"Go away."

"Alexandre, it's me." The door immediately flew open. The hope in his ocean blue eyes broke my heart.

"Marie, you're back!" He moved, allowing me to step inside. He closed the door behind us. I knew what he wanted to ask.

 _Have you changed your mind? Are you going to stay with me?_

"Erik wants to talk to you," I said flatly. His face darkened, and I saw disappointment flash in his eyes.

"Tell him he can go to Hell. I refuse to listen to him gloat." He paused. "Since when are you his little messenger?"

"Since you shot him," I reminded him. "I'm beyond certain he would've come to you himself if he wasn't bedridden." He sighed.

"I won't go there. Not again."

"Please," I whispered, touching his arm gently. "Don't try to fight me on this." He glanced down at my hand, then glared at me as he brushed it off.

"Leave. And unless you've decided you don't want to divorce me, don't come back here. Send someone to collect your belongings." His words stung.

"Please. He said it was urgent, and I don't want to go back there only to tell him you refused to face him." Before I could say anything else, I felt a stinging pain in my cheek. He had slapped me again.

"Don't you dare imply that I'm afraid of him!" he shouted. I froze, and he reached out for me. His fingertips brushed against my arms, and I shot to the other side of the room, as far away from him as I could possibly get. His eyes were apologetic, but his face was still contorted with anger. "I'm…not afraid," he said in a much softer tone.

He took a step toward me, and I pressed myself up against the wall behind me. He reached out to me once more, and his hand closed around my wrist. I used my free hand to hit him across the face.

"Do not touch me again," I said shakily. My hands shook uncontrollably. I knew it didn't hurt him, physically, anyway. But he ignored me, grabbing my arms and pulling me closer to him. I yelped in pain; his grip was nearly as tight as it was that night so long ago, when he had broken my wrist.

"You're still my wife, Marie. You can pretend we're divorced all you want, but as of now, you belong to me." The moment the words left his mouth, his lips were on mine. I tried to push him away, but it didn't help at all. It was a horrible betrayal to Erik to let Alexandre kiss me. He could never know about this. He would leave me for certain if he knew.

"Marie?" I couldn't speak. "Marie, look at me right now. Marie!" I glanced up at my husband.

"I'll tell him you were busy." I tried to break free from his grasp, but he kept a painful hold on me.

"You're not going anywhere, love. Not yet."

"Alexandre, please. You've made your point."

"What exactly is my point, then, Madame _Levesque_? Is it that you're leaving _me_ for a disgusting monster? Or perhaps that I married a worthless slut?" I shrunk back at his words. "Marie, don't fret. If you just stay here with me, I'll treat you like a queen. I'll forget everything that's happened these past few days. I'll forgive you." It occurred to me at that moment that my husband, the strong, safe man I had loved since I had first met him, the man who held me as I cried, who was always so calm, had gone insane.

"I can't."

"Damn it, Marie!" He hit the wall next to me with his fist. "Yes, you can! You just don't want to." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Please, Alexandre. Just let me go," I whispered, on the verge of tears. His grip tightened, but he was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

"Marie?" came Meg's call. "Are you in there? Monsieur Destler is asking for you." Alexandre scowled.

"She's not here, Miss Giry. Tell him…" I cut him off.

"Yes, I am! Meg!" The door, which Alexandre had forgotten to lock, flew open, and my sister was soon in sight.

"What in God's name is going on here?" Alexandre released me. "Marie, are you alright?" I nodded briefly.

"Is your husband coming?" I glanced at him. He looked down at his hands and nodded briefly.

"Meg, leave us for now. I'll be fine," I said at her worried expression.

"Are you sure?" I nodded.

"Meet me at Mother's grave. I want to talk." I was angry at her for trying to pry Erik and me apart, and I wanted to confront her about it.

"I'll…see you then." When my sister had left, Alexandre looked as if he was going to speak.

"I'm going to change…cover up the bruises. Erik would kill you if he saw them," I murmured, rubbing my arms where his hands had been. Always so gentle…until then.

Before he could respond, I had a different gown in my hands and was walking behind the changing screen. He said nothing, and I didn't hear him move.

I tried to focus on the cream-colored dress. It was one of the few I still had from my younger years at the Opera Populaire. Alexandre hadn't really cared for it, so I seldom wore it, but I recalled it had been one of Erik's favorites. Perhaps that was why I had ended up bringing it to Coney. Maybe some deep, secret part of me knew I would return to Erik.

I stepped out from behind the changing screen and moved to the mirror, carefully brushing out my hair and pinning it back up.

"Are you almost ready?" Alexandre asked, annoyance evident in his tone. "You look fine."

"I really appreciate your opinion, Alexandre," I said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes. "No time like the present. Let's go."

 _~Now~_

I recalled how Alexandre and I bickered as we made our way to Erik's. I worried that the mark Alexandre had left on my cheek wouldn't go unnoticed by Erik, but I had luckily covered it in enough powder.

And then Erik told me why he wanted to speak to my husband in the first place. It hurt that he didn't ask me first. It hurt more to tell him. I had become slightly angry at _him_ for what he had done, and he was the last person at whom I wanted to be angry.

But I did go to Mother's grave to meet Meg. I missed Mother more than I ever imagined. She would've been able to guide me through this.

"Hello, Mother," I whispered when I reached her grave. There was a large mound of fresh soil next to the headstone. "I miss you so much. It isn't fair, what happened. I barely even saw you before you…" I paused, a tear falling down my cheek. It was always uncomfortable to cry wearing the mask, so I tried desperately to stop, failing miserably.

But when I felt Meg's hand on my shoulder, I found that I no longer cared. Our eyes met, and we embraced in a tight hug. Despite everything, I loved and needed Meg. She was my sister and my best friend.

"Marie…I have to tell you something. I wouldn't have, but after what I saw today with M. Levesque…I tried to convince M. Destler to hurt you. Not physically…" I stopped her.

"I know. He told me." We broke apart. "He wouldn't lie to me."

"And he wouldn't hurt you. I thought M. Levesque was good for you. I thought he was the right choice, but he proved me wrong today. M. Destler isn't one of the best men out there, but he certainly would give his life to keep you safe." She paused. "I don't approve of your relationship with either of them, but if you have to have one…please let it be M. Destler." I nodded.

"I've already chosen him. Meg, you have no idea how much better I feel about being with Erik now that you're not fighting to keep us apart." She smiled gently.

"I have to get back to work, but you should come by Mother's…my house later. It's been lonely lately without Mother. I'll invite Christine, maybe Nichole. We could have a slumber party, just like before." I smiled at the thought.

"I'd love that, Meg." We hugged again, and I watched Meg walk away. I stood at Mother's grave for a while after, thinking of Erik, Meg, Alexandre, and Mother herself.

"I picked this spot myself," said a voice from behind me. I glanced behind me to see Erik. "I think she would've liked it." I nodded in agreement. The spot overlooked the ocean.

"She would've loved it. The sea reminded her of Papa. On their honeymoon they saw the ocean." I paused. "You shouldn't be walking around. Come on. Let me get you back to bed." He shook his head.

"I'm not going anywhere, ma cherie." He leaned down and brushed a light kiss across the back of my neck. I closed my eyes.

"I don't think Mother would've approved of us being together," I whispered.

"She wanted you to be with someone who could make you happy." He wrapped his arms around my stomach. "Do I make you happy?"

"Very," I whispered, reaching behind me to touch his unmarred cheek.

"I love that dress on you," he purred in my ears. "It accents your figure perfectly." I smirked.

"You've been looking at my figure?" I asked softly. He smiled into my hair, but soon turned solemn.

"Marie, I want to know what else happened when you were with Levesque. I know there's something else." I drew my hand away.

"It's nothing, really." I turned around, noticing how his hands moved to my waist. "Kiss me."

"Later. I want you to tell me." I touched his cheek again and leaned in. He seized my arm, noticing how I winced when he did. "What did he do?" he asked in a dangerously low voice. "Marie…"

"He just…squeezed a little too tight." Erik released my arm and tilted my head to the ride, examining the spot on my cheek where Alexandre had hit me. The powder was thicker there, but it was only really noticeable if one was actually looking.

He pulled out a pristine handkerchief and began to wipe away the makeup, his strokes gentler when I winced once more in pain.

"And apparently he hit you." There was undeniable anger in his voice.

"Erik…"

"Is there anything else I should know?" he asked, venom lacing his tone. "Don't lie to me," he warned.

"It's…nothing, really. But he…he kissed me. Erik, I didn't want him to. I swear!" He nodded, jaw clenched. "Erik, I'm sorry!"

"No. You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing." The look in his deep emerald eyes was nearly frightening.

"Erik, let's go back to your house. You don't have to go back to bed. I would love to hear your music." But he wasn't paying me any attention.

"I'll kill him," he muttered. I grabbed his lapels and pulled him down, crushing my lips to his. At first he didn't respond, and this worried me, but soon he reciprocated the kiss. I ran my hand through his dark hair, and he pulled me closer to him until we were pressed against each other.

"Marie," he breathed when we stopped to breathe.

"Come now, darling. Let's go home."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Alex, boy, you in for a world of pain. Not cool, bro.**

 **Question of the Week:**

 **What is the craziest thing you have done in the name of POTO?**

 **I've done a lot of crazy things, actually. I get in trouble for writing E/C phanfiction a lot (because despite my Christine-bashing, I do love her character), making phanart, and reading either _Phantom_ or _Phantom of the Opera_ in class. But the craziest is probably the period of time when I actually made a Punjab lasso and carried it around with me in my laptop case or in my backpack. It's still in my closet, actually.**

 **Anyway, I'm actually really eager to hear your responses, so REVIEW! I need new ideas...**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**

 **P.S. Just thought of a really weird joke. Someone probably already came up with it, but _I've_ never heard it before. Here goes...**

 **Q: What is Raoul de Chagny's favorite cartoon?**

 **A: Fairly Odd Parents (get it, cuz the acronym is 'FOP'?)**


	27. Chapter 26: Big, Bright, Beautiful World

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 26: Big, Bright, Beautiful World

 **Author's Note: I know it's a short chapter, but it's also a Tuesday update, so...yeah. I couldn't wait until the weekend to put this up, and it _is_ a short chapter, so here it is. Hope you like it! :)**

 **Special thanks to Child of Music and Dreams, grapejuice101, and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: You are most certainly welcome. ;)**

 **grapejuice101: Your wish is my command, dear reader. Also, super duper excited for the sequel for _Rose Red Thorn._ Can't wait to see Brie again! :D**

 **michellecarriveau: I have a mask in my bedroom too. God, we're weird. :P**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

I allowed Marie to take me home. I knew I had frightened her, and she didn't even know of the horrible thoughts that were going through my head. I had configured exactly two hundred and twenty-seven ways to murder Alexandre Levesque, all of which were very slow and very painful.

And yet I knew she was still mine. The way she had acted when she told me about his stolen kiss…It was clear that she didn't want it, and that she felt incredibly guilty and sorry.

"Erik," she murmured when we arrived at my house. My side was hurting something fierce, and I only managed to grunt in response, likely worrying her further. "Is there anything I can do?" I shook my head. "I understand if you're angry about…about the kiss, and I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry." For kissing me? Or for letting him kiss her. I prayed it wasn't the latter.

"Marie," I grunted, gripping her hand. "I'm not angry at you. As I said before, you did nothing wrong. Nothing." I ran my thumb along the white lace of her glove. "It was my fault you were hurt in the first place. I sent you out there."

"Neither of us could've predicted what he would do," she said softly, an immense sadness in her voice. I wondered how I hadn't noticed it before, when she had first walked through the door with Levesque. "I fear he's lost his mind." A tear slid down her bruised cheek. She sighed as I wiped it away. "I'm fine."

"Are you? Come with me." I brought her to my music room. "I came here to think when I first bought the house."

"What did you think about?" she asked softly, resting her head on my shoulder. The fear was still there, much to my distress, but she was trying to convince me she wasn't afraid. I was determined to never see that look in her lovely eyes again. Not for me, and not for anyone else.

"You. You became the subject of my dreams…and my nightmares." She looked up at me.

"Nightmares?" I nodded.

"I thought about you all the time. Everything reminded me of you. I loved you then. I still do."

"But somewhere along the way you forgot me," she murmured under her breath.

"I never forgot you, Marie. How could you think…?"

"You sent for Christine. You were going to lure her here and claim her again. Just like before…" As she spoke, her eyes widened as if realizing something. I began to panic internally.

Surely Fate wouldn't be so cruel as to take her away _now_ …

"You have to understand! I thought you were dead! I was lonely…If you had known the pain I've known, then you would understand that I had no choice!" I exclaimed. She flinched, and I let out a loud sigh.

"You're so delicate, little angel. So breakable. In the wrong hands, you'll fall apart."

"But in yours…" she whispered, pressing her palm against mine.

"I won't lie to you and say that stealing Christine back wasn't my original intention. I gained something much better. You." I closed my fingers around her hand, and she instantly repeated the motion. "Do you believe me when I tell you that I love you?" She didn't answer me at first, and she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Yes…But sometimes…it's silly, but sometimes I feel a twinge of doubt."

" _Why_?" I asked. "Marie, I've given you my word that I'll never hurt you again. What will it take to win back your trust?" She hesitated, but suddenly I knew. I knew exactly what she needed. "Marie," I whispered, dropping to my knees. I kept her hand in mine, and took the other one. "I know that I don't deserve you. Not at all. And I know that I've killed, murdered in cold blood. You know it too, but for some reason, it doesn't change your opinion of me.

"Before you came along, both before and now, there was so much darkness in my life. I felt as though I would drown in it, that there would be nothing left of me. But when you came into my life, you took it all away and replaced it with light and joy and love, none of which I thought I would ever know.

"Marie, I love you with my whole heart, and I hope that'll be enough. Will you marry me?" I asked. Her eyes widened, and she sunk down beside me. Before she could speak, whether to accept my proposal or reject it, I interjected, silencing her.

" _It's a big, bright, beautiful world_

 _With happiness all around._

 _It's peaches and cream_

 _If a dream comes true."_

As I sang to her, she wrapped her arms around my torso and rested her head against my chest.

" _It's a big, bright, beautiful world_

 _With possibilities everywhere._

 _If true love is blind,_

 _Maybe you won't mind the view."_

I began to stroke her soft blonde hair, resisting the urge to pull out the pins that held it up. I kissed the top of her head, trying to coax her into agreeing to marry me. I didn't know what I'd do if she said no. I hadn't prepared myself for that. And I hadn't even planned on proposing that night! Good God, what was I thinking? I didn't even have a ring for her!

But, despite my inner fear, my voice remained calm somehow.

" _I know I'm not the handsome prince_

 _For whom you waited._

 _I don't have a fancy castle,_

 _And I'm not sophisticated._

 _A princess and an ogre,_

 _I admit, is complicated._

 _You've never read a book like this,_

 _But fairy tales should really be updated."_

I heard her let out a soft sigh as I wrapped my arms around her.

" _It's a big, bright, beautiful world._

 _I see it now, I'll let it in._

 _I'll tear down a wall_

 _And clear a spot for two to be with you."_

"Erik," she whispered breathlessly.

"I understand if you don't want to marry me. I…" I was interrupted by her lips on mine.

"Are you crazy?" she asked, eyes more than slightly teary. "Of course I'll marry you, you silly man!" I crushed my lips onto hers, pushing her head in slightly to deepen the kiss.

She had said yes! My Marie had said yes!

I kissed her as though I would never be able to do so again, with ferocity and passion.

"I…I don't have a ring," I admitted, panting slightly. "I hadn't planned on proposing tonight."

"Do you really think I care so much about a ring when I have you with me?" She too was breathless.

"Erik, I love you." She paused hesitantly. "We can't be married until Alexandre and I are divorced."

"I know. I hate it very much, but I'll wait as long as it takes. By God, Marie, we'll be married." We did get off of the floor only after we had kissed again, only to move onto a nearby sofa to continue doing the exact same thing.

Madame Marie Destler.

Yes, I liked that very much.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Writing this chapter really made me happy. (^.^)**

 **Also, the song was 'Big, Bright, Beautiful World' from _Shrek: The Musical._ I really thought it fit well here.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	28. Chapter 27: One Last Note

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 27: One Last Note

 **Author's Note: Oh my gersh! It's been forever since I've updated. Ugh. I'm really sorry. I had finals and tech week on top of writer's block. It was really awful.**

 **Special thanks to GlaciesCruor and Gamergirl11 for following TMOTN,**

 **to Haziebug and Gamergirl11 for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to Gamergirl11 for following and favoriting me,**

 **and to Child of Music and Dreams and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Well, glad I made _someone_ happy, since everyone else seems to hate me right now.**

 **michellecarriveau: Okay, make that two people. ;)**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

After I accepted Erik's proposal, the day flew by. We mostly talked, about ourselves and about each other, but I admit that we shared a few kisses.

One thing bothered me. Erik would want children. The joy in his eyes when he first learned that Gustave was his son…

"Are you certain that it doesn't matter that I can't have…?" I began, voicing my worry. He silenced me with another kiss.

"Of course it matters. But only because it hurts you so much. It's one of the only things you want that I can't give you."

"Erik, I…"

"Say nothing. Let me look at you. Let me revel in the fact that I will have a wife." He touched my mask. "May I?" I nodded. He gently took it off, and I saw the pain flash through his eyes. Did my scars make him love me less? I wondered. I should certainly hope not. After all, he's the one who did this to me. "I'm so sorry, Marie. I don't deserve you. I never have." I said nothing as he leaned in and kissed my scars. I felt myself melt in his arms.

"Erik," I whispered in his ear. "I love you."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that," he grinned. "You're mine, Marie. Say it."

"I'm yours," I breathed. "Yours."

We talked for a few more hours. He gave me a tour of the second floor of his house, but said that the attic and basement were off-limits due to safety hazards. I sensed he was lying, but decided to leave it alone for the time being. He was already sharing so much of himself with me, and I didn't want to push him.

"I trust you'll be staying here from this point on?" he asked hopefully. I shook my head.

"Meg asked if I'd stay with her at Mother's house. I already told her I would." Erik sighed. "Be patient, darling. Soon enough we'll be married, and I'll be here all the time." He nodded.

"Marie…I need to know…Is it alright with you if I endeavor to have a relationship with Gustave?" he blurted. "I…I want a relationship with my son." His eyes showed his struggle. He desperately wanted to know his son, but he wanted me more.

"Erik, I think it's a great idea to know your son. It's his mother I'm worried about."

"Christine and I…" I could tell by the worried look in his eyes that he thought I was referring to something else.

"Not that necessarily. She may not let you. And then there's the Vicomte…"

"But it's fine with you?" he asked nervously.

"As long as you're faithful to me…" He smiled me, then kissed me fiercely.

"Thank you." He held me close to him for what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes. I glanced at the grandfather clock behind my fiancé.

"I should go. I want to talk to Meg when she finishes work today. Besides, I need to take my clothes to her house…"

"You go, my dear."

"Should I tell her of our engagement?"

"Tell anyone you choose. I sure as hell will." I smiled.

"You need to go back to bed. Your side is nowhere near fully healed." I swear he rolled his eyes behind the mask.

"I assure you, I'll be fine. I'll send someone to retrieve you if I should need you, though I doubt it'll be necessary."

"Just don't leave the house."

"I won't." We kissed one more time. "Bonne nuit, petit cherie." I smirked.

"Bonne nuit, mon amour."

* * *

Meg seemed relieved when I told her of my engagement to Erik.

"Things are done between you and M. Levesque?" she asked, making sure she was understanding correctly.

"We're not divorced yet, but we will be soon enough."

"Is that bruise from him?" she asked, indicating my cheek. I nodded. "I hope that M. Destler won't hurt you like that. I don't know what I'll do if he does."

"He won't," I stated firmly. We sipped our tea in silence for a few moments before either of us spoke again.

"Shall I send for Nichole and Christine?" asked my sister, slight happiness lacing her tone. I smiled.

"Go ahead."

An hour later, Christine, Nichole, and an unknown man were on Meg's doorstep.

"Miss Marie Giry?" Slightly startled at being called by my maiden name, I looked behind Christine and Nichole at the man. He was relatively tall, not near as tall as Erik, and slightly plump. I could tell just by looking at him that he was not one of Erik's employees.

"That would be me," I said, curiosity lacing my voice.

"Ah, why don't you two come inside?" Meg whispered to Nichole and Christine. They followed my sister inside, leaving the door open.

"How can I help you, sir?" I asked.

"M. Levesque has requested that I give you these," said he, pointing to a stack of trunks. Mine, I realized. "And this." He pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and held it out to me. I took it from him.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, madam. I wish you a good night." Before I could reply, he had turned and was walking away.

I called Meg, and she helped me carry (though drag would be more appropriate) my trunks inside.

With a trembling hand, I pulled out the contents of the envelope.

"Excuse me," I said softly before I could read the note.

"Of course," said Meg. I retreated to my bedroom and unfolded the parchment. I stared blankly at Alexandre's gentle scrawl for a few moments before I could bring myself to read it. I was terrified of what it would say.

' _Dearest Marie,_

 _I have been made painfully aware of the fact that you are no longer mine. In fact, I wonder if you were ever mine in the first place, or if our marriage-which will be terminated in the next month-was just a shimmering, fragile façade. Perhaps I merely held you in trust for five years until Fate decided to deliver you back to the one to whom you truly belong._

 _By the time you receive this letter, I will be on my way back to Paris with Nicolas, though I plan on traveling for a year or two. I wonder why I tell you this when I have the ever-increasing suspicion that you don't care?_

 _However, I do have something to tell you that you would find interesting, if not helpful. Once I am in Paris, I will file for a no-fault divorce, but I will take no pleasure in doing so. My love for you has not even faltered in the slightest, but I know a future for us is beyond hope.'_

I stopped reading for a moment, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. God forgive me. He still loved me, and I had virtually ripped out his heart and torn it to shreds.

' _However, I am very serious when I say that you are_ _always_ _welcome back in my house. If he lays a single finger on you, or says one cruel word, I want you to come back to the house in London_ _immediately._ _I know that our last meeting was…less than enjoyable, and for that I am truly sorry-I pray that I didn't hurt you badly, and I hate myself for hurting you at all-but you wouldn't even need to stay with me. I would give you any sum of money you would need._

 _Remember, dear Marie, that I have always loved you, and I know I always will._

 _All My Love,_

 _Alexandre Levesque'_

I read and reread the letter over and over again, and then I couldn't fight the tears back anymore.

I loved Alexandre, but I knew that Erik was the man I needed to be with.

* * *

Meg found me upstairs later, and I knew I looked an utter mess. My eyes were red and puffy, my cheeks were tearstained, and I was curled up on the floor with my knees to my chest, clutching the equally tearstained letter.

She said nothing, merely handed me a handkerchief, exchanging it for the letter. She glanced at it, scanning it quickly, then set it down on my bed.

"Christine and Nichole are downstairs in the parlor. They're worried about you." I nodded.

"I'll be down in a few minutes. I need to compose myself."

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked gently. I nodded. "I know you miss him, but…"

"Have you fallen in love, Meg? Truly, deeply?" I inquired. Her eyes widened. "It's been five years, and I know we haven't fully caught up." She hesitated, but responded.

"I did."

"Who is he? Have I met him?"

"No. We can't be together." Her cheeks flushed.

"Why?" She smiled, but her blue eyes were hollow.

"Reasons. I'd rather not discuss it further." I nodded in understanding.

"I think I'm ready to go downstairs," I whispered after wiping my eyes one more time. Meg nodded.

"Perhaps you'd like to tell Christine and Nichole of your engagement." I allowed a small smile.

"I wonder what they'll say."

"I'm certain they'll be more than happy for you."

Nichole, always the enthusiastic optimist, was indeed happy for me, but Christine, on the other hand, was…less than pleased.

"Are you mad?" she questioned. "Did you not learn your lesson last time?"

"Things are different this time, Christine," I said patiently. "I'm aware of the fact that marrying Erik is not at all smart." Christine snorted, a thing that was not at all ladylike and very unlike her.

"At least you have some sense," she sneered sarcastically. "Can I talk to you alone?" I nodded and led her to the dining room. Before I left the room, I glanced back at Meg and Nichole, noting how Meg fidgeted almost nervously and how Nichole, usually chatty, didn't say a word, not even to comment on the intense situation in which I currently found myself.

"How could you do this to me?" cried Christine when we were alone. " _I_ love him. He was _my_ teacher, _my_ angel!"

I didn't realize I had slapped her until I felt a stinging sensation in my right hand.

"And at one point he loved you. But you chose Raoul. You're married to Raoul!" Christine touched her cheek, wincing as she did. I really had not meant to do that.

"And you're married to Alexandre!" I ran a hand through my hair, which had fallen out of its normal updo a while before.

"We're getting a divorce! He's going back to Paris now! Christine, listen to me. Erik is mine. You had your chance, and you didn't take it. So quit acting like a child, and let me marry the man I love in peace.

"You don't have to be happy for me," I continued. "You can hate it all you want. Hell, you can hate me all you want. For some reason, I can't bring myself to care anymore. But for the love of God, don't you dare try to steal him. I won't survive it if he chooses you again."

My old friend said nothing, merely brushed past me without another word.

I stood shocked for a few moments. Had she just thrown a tantrum because she didn't get the man she wanted, even though she had _chosen a different man_ five years prior?

I shook my head and went back into the parlor. Christine wasn't there.

"Where's Christine?" I asked.

"She left. She said she needed to check on Gustave, but that she wouldn't be back," Meg answered. "Is everything alright?"

"No. But I'd rather not talk about it," I muttered. I really missed Erik, and I wanted to talk to him more than anything. But I knew I'd have to wait until the next day.

Meg, Nichole and I discussed a wide range of topics, covering nearly everything from desserts to those God awful bathing suits we had to wear in order to swim. They were so heavy, especially when they got wet, and itchy too…

We were just about to raid the wine cabinet when there was a loud knock on the door. We all groaned in unison, but it was I who went to the door. I carefully opened it, revealing a boy no younger than fifteen. I recognized him from the inn. He worked there.

"Can I help you?" I asked, keeping my tone warm despite my irritation at having been pulled away from a fun conversation about our first kisses. And about the fact that he was staring at my mask rather than me.

"Madame de Chagny sent me here to request your help? You are Madame Levesque?"

"Giry," I corrected automatically. "What does she want?" I nearly rolled my eyes. After what she said, Christine had no right to summon me this late into the night for my help.

"Her son is missing. She thought you might know where to find him." A subtle accusation. How could I have taken him? I hadn't the time to beat her to her room and take her son. Not to mention the fact that her drunk husband wouldn't have let me.

But I chose not to dwell on that, rather to focus on the matter at hand. Precious little Gustave was God knows where with God knows who. I had to find him.

"Thank you, dear." I reached into my coin purse and gave him two-What did those Americans call them? Ah, yes-pennies. "Tell her I'll begin searching for him immediately." He took the coins with wide eyes, nodded briefly, and took off running.

I went back inside and pulled a shawl over my shoulders, quickly explaining the issue to my sister and friend.

"I knew I stayed in this stupid dress for something'," joked Nichole. I forced a smile. I was truly worried about Gustave. Even if I didn't care for his mother at the time, I would always love that little boy.

I had a feeling I knew who took him. It had to be Erik. I prayed it was him. Though I knew I would have to scold him about it later, I knew he would never hurt Gustave.

As I set out for Erik's mansion, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer.

' _God Almighty, don't let my little boy get hurt.'_

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, we have some important matters to discuss.**

 **First of all, we have around 13 chapters left, and I have no clue what the title for Book 3 should be. The *something* of the Night, sure, but what is that something? I have no freaking clue, so will you guys help me out on that? Pretty pleeeeeeease?**

 **Second, just to clarify, Alexandre is out of the picture for the rest of this book. Bye, dear.**

 **Alex: What?! NOOOOOOO.**

 **Me: Suck it up, buttercup. You'll be back later.**

 **Alex: But-**

 **Me: No more words.**

 **Alex: *grumpy face***

 **Third, looks like Marie is more attached to Gustave than we (by we I mean you guys, because I, well, wrote the story) thought. This is going to be problematic.**

 **Fourth and last, Merry (belated) Christmas! I really wanted to do a Christmas update, but due to family-related goings on, I didn't have the time.**

 **Happy Holidays, guys! See you soon!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	29. Chapter 28: Beautiful With You

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 28: Beautiful With You

 **Author's Note: Okay, I'm really tired, so I'm going to keep this short, but I do have a question for you in the other author's note. It's kind of important.**

 **Also, I wrote this listening to 'Beautiful With You' by Halestorm. Freaking love this song.**

 **Special thanks to bri-des-4eve1 for following and favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to amystarhunter246 for following me,**

 **and to Child of Music and Dreams and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: NO. End of story.**

 **michellecarriveau: I don't know, actually. I mean, you know I can't go _too_ long without throwing in some angst, but it'll still be a few chapters before anything major happens.**

* * *

(Erik's POV)

To put it bluntly, I had kidnapped the child.

When I had discovered that Christine would be staying at the Giry residence, and that the Vicomte would be drinking the night away, I couldn't resist the temptation of stealing him for the evening. Thank whatever deity out there for miscommunications.

I brought him to my house. It didn't take much convincing to get the boy to come with me. My God, he's so young, not even quite four years old, and yet he already showed such potential in music and in other things.

I spoke to him like I did an adult, and to my chagrin (and more profusely, my pride), he understood every bit of it. He was a remarkable boy. He was so very similar to me in nearly every regard.

As I listened to him play my piano, I closed my eyes and envisioned a different life. One that saw me a handsome man married to the Marie I knew five years ago. Gustave was ours, and we both worked at the Opera Populaire, I as a violinist, and Marie as the prima donna. Christine was nowhere around.

It was impossible, of course, but the next life I imagined wasn't.

Marie and I were married, and Gustave was mine to raise. Marie loved him as if she were his mother.

I let out a sigh, and Gustave stopped playing. It was flawed, but only barely. With my guidance, he'd be a better pianist than Beethoven or Chopin.

"What's wrong?" asked the child.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." I wanted to steal him away. I wanted him to know me as his father.

"Where's Mama?" he inquired.

"She's with your Aunt Marie," I replied, remembering how Christine and Marie were like sisters. At least, they were before I reentered their lives.

"Where's Aunt Marie?" He was certainly inquisitive, wasn't he?

"She's at her sister's house."

"And where's that?" I suppressed a groan.

We discussed safe topics such as music and what little literature the boy knew of. But he also chose to discuss things like his mother and de Chagny's family. Gustave was surprisingly enjoyable company, which is something I never expected to say about a child. But eventually he asked the question I'd been dreading all evening.

"Why do you wear that mask?"

"I'm not very handsome," I replied as steadily as possible. It was a huge understatement. Unaware of how horrible my disfigurement actually was, he pushed, shrugged.

"You look fine to me," he said casually. "Can I take it off?" I almost said no, but this was my son. He needed to know me.

I nodded, bracing myself for screams.

He didn't disappoint.

I immediately placed the mask back on my face, effectively covering the deformity that had robbed me of a normal life. It didn't help. He continued to scream and cry.

"Gustave!" shouted my fiancé. "Gustave, it's alright. It's me!" I glanced over to see her pulling my son into a tight embrace. "Gustave…Thank God you're alright." Christine appeared behind her a few seconds later, and Marie scooped him up and carried him to his mother, who took him and after giving me a look that could've killed me, carried the sobbing child away.

"You thought I would hurt him?" I asked softly. She looked at me in surprise.

"I wasn't sure he was with you. No one knew where he was." She paused. "You had all of us worried. Beyond worried! Erik, we were terrified. I don't know what I would do if Gustave…" A tear slid down her cheek, and I realized how close she actually was to my son.

"Marie…"

"Please don't do that ever again." Her serious tone made me feel incredibly guilty.

"I'm sorry. I thought Christine was staying with you for the evening, and that the Vicomte would be too busy drowning his sorrows." She scowled when I said Christine's name. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"What did she do?" I asked.

"I love you, Erik." She wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my chest. "I really want to stay here tonight." I smiled into her hair, returning the embrace.

"Then stay" I said a little too quickly. She laughed softly. "Meg will still be there tomorrow night." I tilted her head up and kissed her. She pressed herself against me, hands clutching my shoulders as if she'd fall if she let go. I let my hands rest on her hips.

"I can't."

"She'll understand."

"No, she won't."

"I think she would."

"How's your side," she asked, effectively changing the subject.

"Much better." I paused, a smirk creeping across my lips. "It doesn't hurt nearly as bad when you're here." She rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"In that case…" I grinned and picked her up, throwing her over my shoulder. "Erik!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?!"

"Taking you to your room."

"Erik, put me down!" she cried, laughing as she hit my back with her fists.

"Careful," I warned. "You wouldn't want me to drop you." I allowed my grip on her to slip slightly, and she cried out in surprise.

"Erik," she whined, though I could practically hear her smile. " _Please_ put me down." I said nothing until I had successfully carried her up the stairs and was entering the room I had furnished for a woman. I didn't know when I had done it if I was thinking of Christine or Marie. As a matter of fact, I still couldn't, but that's irrelevant.

I tossed her onto the bed, and she giggled almost childishly once she hit the mattress, pulling me down with her. It was then that I realized that she was still just a child. Twenty-three years old, with her whole life ahead of her, yet she chose to be there, with _me,_ no less.

"What's wrong, darling?" she asked, stroking my unmarred cheek. We were both lying on our sides, facing each other.

"You're so beautiful," I whispered, propping myself up so that I could untie her mask. I took off mine after receiving a very expectant look from my fiancé.

Fiancé. I'd never get used to saying that.

"I feel beautiful when I'm with you," she said softly, and I saw the sincerity in her blue eyes. "Alexandre is gone." The slight sadness that replaced that sincerity caused jealousy to slowly cloud my thoughts. "Erik?"

"Do you miss him?" She didn't respond for a while, but when she did I knew she had chosen her words carefully.

"Not as much as I thought I would. But a little. Not near as much as I missed you all those years." She kissed my cheek. I pulled her closer to me until we were holding each other so tightly I found it almost difficult to breathe. Or perhaps that was just the fact that I was actually _holding her._

We lay together like that in silence for I don't know how long, and I was about to ask her why exactly she loved me and why she missed me when I realized she had fallen asleep.

I laid her back on the bed and stood up. I noticed the way her lips were parted, the way the dim candlelight caught the soft gold of her hair, the way her chest rose and fell as she breathed in and out. She let out a soft sigh, and I allowed a small smile.

This woman, the girl I had trained to sing like the angels, the girl whose heart I had broken, was going to be my wife.

I smiled again and slipped out of her room.

* * *

A month had passed since that Levesque boy had left Coney Island, and Marie was beginning to seem more at ease with each passing day.

She stayed with Meg at her house, which irked me to no end, though I knew it shouldn't have bothered me. I found that when Marie showed anyone else attention, man or woman, jealousy took over me. When I told her about this, she merely smiled that brilliant smile of hers and promised that I was the only one who really mattered besides her sister. I still felt jealous when she said that even though I knew it was wrong of me.

Because they saw no point in staying in Coney Island, the de Chagnys were planning to leave. I wouldn't have cared in the slightest, except for the fact that my son would leave and never return. The worst part was that he'd never know I was his father.

So I bribed Christine into staying for longer. I'd come up with a better plan later for keeping him with me, but for the time being, it was the only course of action that might work.

I told her that if she didn't sing at the final performance of the season at Phantasma, I would take Gustave and hide him in a place where no one would ever find him again. Of course, I exaggerated. But it got Christine to stay. And with the handsome amount of money I was paying her for doing this, her drunkard of a husband had no objections.

Some nights, mostly so I'd be able to see my fiancé, I'd go to the Giry residence for supper with the two. Meg was sometimes more at ease around me than others.

On one such night, I saw a truly appalling sight.

I had just arrived at the small but comfortable house the Girys owned. It was tall, with two floors, but very thin, unlike my own mansion. Another notable difference was that while my own house was Gothic and manly, this house screamed of femininity, with its dainty, white lace curtains and the peach colored paint that adorned its exterior walls.

I knocked on the front door, which could have accommodated a family of giraffes, and Meg Giry opened it, looking distressed.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly. "Is Marie alright?"

"I…I'm not sure. We received a letter from M. Levesque." I stiffened. What had that bastard done? "She wouldn't let me read it; she just ran to her room and locked the door behind her." I pushed past the younger Giry sister and entered the house, forgetting all manners and courtesies. I practically ran up the staircase, and when I found her door, I knocked on it gently.

"Marie?" I called. I doubted she heard me over the sound of her own violent sobbing. I needed to know what that damned letter said, what he had written that could trouble my Marie so. "Marie!" I called once more, this time much louder. The sobbing stopped for a moment.

"What is it?" she asked, her light soprano shaky.

"I'd like to see my fiancé. Is that so wrong?" I asked, attempting to keep my tone playful.

"Another time. I don't feel well this evening."

"Then I'll take care of you. Open the door, mon amour." There was no response. "Marie?"

"Please, Erik, leave me alone." Her words stung more than anything my mother or anyone else had said to me in my lifetime. The woman who had so many times assured me than regardless of what was happening, she'd talk to me about anything that was troubling her or had amused her, had told me to go away.

Well, that wasn't about to happen.

I picked from my pocket the spare key to her bedroom I might or might not have stolen from under the grandfather clock in the parlor of the house. What can I say? Old habits die hard.

I slid the key into the lock and opened the door to see my fiancé sitting at a white desk, hunched over with her head buried in her arms, weeping violently. In her hand was a crumpled piece of parchment. I walked over to her and carefully took it from her. There were only two words.

 _It's done._

There was no signature, only those two words, yet those two words seemed to mock me. Marie was obviously brokenhearted to be permanently separated from her husband. What had I been thinking? She loved that boy, and I had pressured her into marrying me.

I set the parchment back down on her desk and turned to leave. My head was spinning. What would I do if she wanted to return to him?

"Erik?" She uttered my name so softly it was barely a whisper. I inhaled deeply, preparing myself for what I knew she would say.

 _I can't stand this any longer. Let me go home._

"Yes?" I asked, keeping my tone level as I turned to face her. She looked up at me.

"Please don't go." I glanced at her in surprise and knelt beside her. She slid from her chair to fall right into my arms. I held her as she cried, neither of us saying a thing. Her head was buried in my chest, tears staining my black velvet coat, not that I really minded. "I don't miss him."

I wasn't sure I had heard her right. "What?"

"I don't miss him. Not really, anyway."

"Then why are you crying, mon bel ange?"

"I should miss him," she choked in between sobs. "He's…he was my husband. And I loved him. I thought I did…" I nearly breathed a sigh of relief. I had been wrong. Thank God, I was wrong!

"Hush, my dear. It's alright."

"I feel horrible. He loved me and I left him." There it was. Damn her, why did she have to give me that hope? "I do not want to go back to him, but I'm an awful person. I was so selfish…" She was babbling now, and I was confused. Did she or did she not want to be with me?! "But God, I love you so much. Do you love me half as much as I love you? I hope so. I wouldn't be able to bear it…" She was near hysterics, her limbs shaking slightly and her voice raising in pitch. I couldn't stand much more of this.

And so I kissed her. I kissed her hard enough that she forgot all about her ex-husband.

"I love you," she breathed.

"Not nearly as much as I love you," I replied.

And then I kissed her again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Okay, so I need to talk to you guys about Book Three in my series here.**

 **I have a few ideas of what I want to happen, but I need more. Could you guys help me out? Anything you want to see happen, leave it in a review or PM me. Who knows? Maybe it'll happen.**

 **THINGS THAT _CANNOT_ HAPPEN:**

 **-Marie dies**

 **-Erik dies**

 **-Gustave dies**

 **-anything featuring Christine**

 **I am open to any and all ideas, as long as they don't include anything I just listed. Please help me; I NEED IDEAS.**

 **Thanks!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	30. Chapter 29: Here Comes the Bride

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 29: Here Comes the Bride

 **Author's Note: I am so, so SO sorry for not updating sooner! It's been like, a month, and I feel so bad. And it makes me feel worse that this chapter is so short. But between computer problems, school, and writer's block, this chapter has just been awful to write. Please forgive me! *holds out roses, chocolates, and oversized teddy bears* Please?**

 **Special thanks to kittyitty6, TheLittleRedCrane, and Jisselle in Wonderland for following TMOTN,**

 **to TheLittleRedCrane for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **and to Child of Music and Dreams and michellecarriveau for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: Honestly, the most probable ending is very similar to that...with one difference which I will not say.**

 **michellecarriveau: One of those things is definitely going to happen, and another already has (in TDOTN). The other definitely won't, just because I'm an idiot and don't know qute hoe to incorporate it.**

 **And also a special, SPECIAL thanks to those brilliant people in my life who inspire me to work hard every single day. Since it's Valentine's Day, I figured I would thank you in my note.**

 **Dad- You are the best dad a girl could ask for. You put up with my crap, and I love you so much for it. We have a great relationship, and I know that we will _always_ have that.**

 **Granny- AKA my editor, best friend, and adviser. We've always been super close, and our relationship will always have a special place in my heart.**

 **Sarah- One of my two sisters from different misters. You've been my BFF since kindergarten, and I am so thankful for you and Megs.**

 **Megan- My other partner in crime. We've only known each other for a little over a year, but it's like I've known you my whole life. You and Sarah are always there for me, and if I was half as good of a friend as you two are to me, that would be a major compliment.**

 **Jazzy- My favorite rapper-to-be. You, good sir, are the best wingman a girl could have. Your Alan Rickman impression is freaking spot-on, and even though you'll never read this, you're the coolest Indian-who-wishes-he-was-black I'll ever meet.**

* * *

(Marie's POV)

We were to be married on May twenty-first in the spring of 1887. The day was bright and sunny, absolutely ideal for a wedding. Meg, Nichole, and Madame Edwards were helping to get me ready, and I admitted that I was nervous, even though I knew I shouldn't have been.

Perhaps it was Meg's obvious discomfort with the entire situation. I knew she still didn't want me to get married to Erik, but I suppose she considered him the lesser of two evils.

As they helped me into the wedding gown, a heavy cream taffeta, with cuffs, hem, and collar formed of delicate Chantilly lace, I became more and more nervous. My hands shook as I attempted to fasten the tiny buttons on the bodice. Though I hadn't cared for it much when I initially tried it on, as I looked into the full length wall mirror, I realized it was a perfect choice. The off-white gown gently hugged my figure while covering nearly every inch of my body, save for the slight V-neck collar. Its train flowed nearly five feet behind me, and the toes of my satin white shoes just barely peeped out from under the skirt.

I had the distinct feeling Erik would love it.

"Oh honey, you look amazing," said Madame Edwards as I smoothed imaginary wrinkles in the skirt. Meg's smile wasn't forced as she finished pinning up my hair. Nichole nodded in agreement, a bright smile forming on her crimson lips.

"You look like Mother did in her wedding photo," Meg said softly. She slipped the mask off of my face. "Except for this." I glanced at the scars for the first time in several months. I'd always preferred to focus on everything besides the scars when I put makeup on or fixed my hair.

To my surprise, I saw that they had faded significantly. I'd known that my burns could've been much worse than they actually were, and I owed that to the Vicomte. But he was a different man then.

"Mother should be here to see this," I murmured sadly. Meg nodded in understanding as I began to powder my face. We were silent after that for a while.

Before any of us could speak again, there was a loud knock at the front door. Meg went to open the door.

"I'm looking for a Marie Giry. I was told she lived here." I jerked around at the voice. That accent…I'd know it anywhere.

"And who are you?" I heard Meg ask. I excused myself and hurried down the stairs.

"Nadir?" I called. "Nadir, is that you?" I grinned widely when I saw his tall, thin form, his olive colored skin, his dark brown, nearly black eyes. I had hardly realized how much I had missed him.

I had invited Nadir to the wedding unbeknownst to Erik. I had been able to coax the information of Nadir's whereabouts out of him, and then I had written to him.

I doubted Erik's initial reaction would be one of joy, but I felt he would eventually appreciate his friend's presence.

"Miss Giry." He too was smiling. "It is certainly a pleasure to see you again." Meg glanced between us with a confused look on her face.

"Meg, this is M. Nadir Khan. He is a friend of Erik and mine, and he's here for the wedding." Meg still looked a little befuddled, but nodded. "Nadir, this is my sister Meg." He smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle."

"As I stated in my letter, Nadir, Erik does not know you're here." He chuckled.

"That might prove to have been unwise of you." I smiled. "He'll certainly be surprised."

"Indeed."

"Marie, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to go," Meg said with the hint of a smile. "You don't want to miss your own wedding."

"No, I don't," I agreed with a smile.

"I will see you there, mademoiselle," said Nadir.

"Goodbye, Nadir." When he had gone, Nichole's mother spoke.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" asked Mme. Edwards. "This is a big decision."

"I think so."

"If he cheats, I ain't feelin' sorry for ya," she said.

"Ma!" Nichole exclaimed. I concealed a smile.

"I doubt very much he will, madam." She gave a sad smile.

"I said that too." She nearly instantly brightened again. "Well, come on!" She placed a palm to the small of my back and gently nudged me. I walked with her to the carriage, Meg and Nichole behind us.

I stepped into the carriage, and as it began to move, as our house began to slip away, so did the life I had come to know.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Again, I'm really sorry about the super-late update. To atone for this awful sin, I have decided to give you a few hints about what's gonna happen.**

 **-Next chapter is the wedding.**

 **-One of the lovely ladies is gonna get preggo.**

 **-There is a secret relationship going on.**

 **-Two main characters are going to die by the end of this book.**

 **-We will have a new main character by the end of this book.**

 **-After TMOTN and before the third book, I'm planning a light crossover with POTO and Beauty and the Beast. It will be Erik/OC.**

 **-In book three Firmin and Andre MIGHT be coming back as the main antagonists.**

 **I think that's all I'm gonna give for now, but there is a lot of cool stuff coming your way. :)**

 **Question of the Week: Which of those sounds most interesting?**

 **I'm not going to answer that. I think all of them could be interesting, if I can write it well.**

 **Anyway, not making any promises about exactly how soon the next chapter will come out, but I don't think it'll be more than a couple weeks.**

 **See you soon!**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	31. Chapter 30: Heavenly Reality

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 30: Heavenly Reality

 **Author's Note: I am so very sorry for not updating sooner! I've been busy with school, and to make things even more difficult, I've had BAD writer's block for like, a month. I know that's not even a decent excuse, but it's all I've got. I think I got inspired because I started writing _The Darkness of the Night_ four years ago today. So, it's TDOTN'S birthday, as well as my own! Birthdays all around, everyone! ;)**

 **Special thanks to victoireveela and Super-fan-Natural-1997 for following TMOTN,**

 **to victoireveela and bella cullen for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to victoireveela for following me,**

 **to grapejuice101, michellecarriveau, Child of Music and Dreams, and victoireveela for reviewing TMOTN,**

 **and to everyone else who's still reading this. Thank you so much for sticking with me!**

 **grapejuice101: Here you go! So very sorry it took so long! :(**

 **michellecarriveau: I regret to say that I can't answer your first question (though you know it's not Erik, Marie, or Gustave) or your second question. And no, it was actually _Love Never Dies._**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: After this one, nine and an epilogue, I think. That's what I currently have planned.**

 **victoireveela: Hi! Don't I know you from Polyvore? ;) And I'm so, so glad you like my fics! Marie and Erik's story has been in my head for around four years now, and it's so great to finally be able to type them up and post them for you guys! :) I can't give anything away, so sorry about that, but I'm really looking forward to writing the BATB-themed Phanfiction. I think it's going to be a lot of fun, and I think you guys are gonna love it. :D**

* * *

 _"You're my downfall, you're my muse,_

 _My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues._

 _I can't stop singing, this ringing, in my head for you._

 _My head's underwater, but I'm breathing fine._

 _You're crazy, and I'm out of my mind._

 _'Cause all of me loves all of you,_

 _Love your curves and all your edges,_

 _All your perfect imperfections..."_

 _-All of Me, John Legend_

* * *

(Erik's POV)

Despite everything, I was terrified. I knew I shouldn't have been; I'd soon have the one thing I had been quite certain I'd never possess. A wife.

 _A wife to take out on Sundays…_

As I straightened my silk cravat, I wondered what our life would be like. Perhaps she could pass as normal, as her scars had faded nearly entirely, but I would forever be an outcast. And Gustave. What would we do about Gustave? Christine certainly wouldn't let me near him.

"You've certainly changed a lot," came a familiar voice. I looked at the intruder over my shoulder, feeling a mixture of annoyance, confusion, and relief.

"What are you doing here, daroga?" I asked.

"I wouldn't miss your wedding, old friend," he responded.

"How did you know? You weren't invited."

"To the contrary. Your bride-to-be sent a letter to me a month ago, telling me of the news. She asked if I would come, and who was I to say no?" I nearly groaned; Marie had done this?

Never mind. I wouldn't let anything bother me on this day.

"Who, indeed." I paused, thinking of my soon-to-be-wife. How beautiful she'd look in that white gown she had never let me see. How her full lips would turn upwards into one of those contagious smiles of hers. How her blue eyes would light up the entire room. How I'd kiss her when the priest pronounced her my wife.

"You're very lucky to have her, Erik," the daroga said, bringing me out of my blissful thoughts. "She loves you very much."

"You think I don't know that?" I asked. "I love her, daroga, and I know that she loves me. God only knows why, though." I paused, running a hand through my hair. "I know I don't deserve her. But I will do everything in my power to make her happy."

But Nadir merely smiled.

"I know." I straightened my silk cravat for what was likely the thousandth time, and slicked back my hair once more. I glanced at myself in the mirror, a thing I seldom did. My black frock coat had been tailored to perfection, and I could practically see my reflection in the toes of my shoes.

"Note the diamonds she wears, daroga. You should find them familiar," I muttered, changing the subject. Nadir raised an eyebrow.

"Erik, you didn't," he said, an odd grin on his aging face. We were beginning to grow old.

"Yes," I said, smiling myself, "I did."

The carriage ride was blessedly short. I remember being consumed in my thoughts, effectively drowning out the daroga's droning. I tried not to think about the dark days when I thought I had lost Marie. How I had turned to morphine for comfort when I couldn't have hers. Yet they came back to me, vividly, as if they were still happening.

I had to remind myself that they were over, that Marie was mine. She was safe and mine, and that was all that mattered.

When I arrived at the chapel, I noticed that Meg, Mlle. Edwards, and Mme. Edwards were already there. That meant Marie had to be there too. I wondered what she looked like in her wedding gown, likely even more like an angel than usual.

I took my place by the priest. It had certainly been an ordeal to convince him to marry a divorced Catholic and a firm Atheist. But anything can be done with the right sum of money.

"I wouldn't have done this," he said, "even with the money you offered. But my wife is sick, and what you gave me will help me take care of her." I had nodded.

"I figured as much…but thank you, nonetheless."

The chapel was soon full of people, most of whom were employees of mine. But I certainly didn't delude myself into believing that they were here for me. A few, perhaps were there for my future wife. She had been so kind to everyone, regardless of how they looked. But I had bribed most of them with a raised paycheck, for I didn't want my Marie to be married in an empty church. Though, sweet child that she was, I doubt she even would've noticed.

I waited until I could barely stand it, but then, she came.

She walked down the aisle in her pristine white gown, veil covering her face, but I could still see her smile. I resisted the urge to run to her and kiss her then and there.

She took her place by the priest's side, and we began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of the Church's minister and this community. Christ abundantly blesses this love. He has already consecrated you in baptism and now he enriches and strengthens you by a special sacrament so that you may assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so, in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions…" The priest spoke, but I paid him no heed. All I could think about was my Marie.

 _My_ Marie.

At last the time came for us to read our vows. Agreeing that the usual wedding vows were too typical and basic for our…unique romance, we had decided to write our own. God only knows how many hours I had spent scrawling things down on paper, only to crumple it up and throw it across my office a few moments later.

Of course, my own struggles didn't matter once Marie began. I wondered briefly if she herself had suffered through the same trials.

"Erik, I'll never forget the first time we met," she began, and I felt my lips quirk up into the beginning of a smile, "how your voice enthralled me from the beginning. It's rarely been easy for us, but we've persevered this far, and I know that when things become difficult once more, we'll persevere again. I swear to you that I will respect, admire, and appreciate you for the man you are, as well as the man you wish to become.

"I will stand by your side for the rest of my life, regardless of the circumstances. I love you with all my heart, and I am thrilled to start our new life together." I stared at her as she said these words, enthralled by her voice, and nearly wept. I had never expected words like that to ever be spoken to _me._

"Marie Anne Giry," I started, "before we met, I was lost in darkness. You came to me, with your beauty and your wit and your compassion, and you brought me back into the light. I promise to protect you and your freedom, because although our lives are entwined, your choices are still yours. You don't need to love me, though I know you do. You need only accept _my_ love.

"You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me. I adore every single thing about you, and without you, I would be a miserable shell of a man. I need you in my life, and I swear to be whatever you need me to be, whatever you want me to be. I'm totally yours."

The priest spoke softly to us for a little while more, and he blessed the rings, but I paid no attention to his rather dull voice. A few more moments passed, and then we were announced husband and wife.

How strange. Only a few hours ago, I was standing in front of my mirror, terrified of what might happen today. Now…now I was married to my dear Marie.

I lifted her veil slowly, relishing the look of love in my _wife's_ blue eyes. I caressed her cheek and kissed her. Her hands gripped my wrist, and her eyes slid closed. There was some applause, though I think Marie and I both knew it was more out of courtesy than anything.

I pulled away from her, and Marie laughed softly at Mlle. Edwards's squealing. I smiled, and, unable to resist temptation, kissed her once more.

The reception was a small gathering at Mlle. Giry's residence, which suited me fine. I was incredibly relieved that neither the Vicomte nor Christine were in attendance, though I would've enjoyed seeing my son on that wondrous day.

As Mme. Edwards was regaling us with tales of the strangest people she'd encountered at her inn, I felt Marie slide in closer to me on the velvet settee. I took her hand in mine, running my thumb over the ring she now wore. Though Marie did have a taste for jewelry, I had seldom seen her wear a ring, especially in recent months, and I admit I was absurdly pleased to see _my_ ring on her slender finger.

It was a simple thing really, a gold band with a small sapphire in the center. Mine was different from hers in that it was missing the sapphire and had a thicker band.

I kissed the top of her head, and she smiled up at me.

"Why a sapphire?" she asked softly, glancing down at our hands.

"It symbolizes loyalty and faithfulness," I began, "and…the color reminds me of your eyes." She smiled, and I grinned back at her.

Grinned? Since when did the elusive Phantom of the Opera _grin_?

Marie smiled back at me, and I gently squeezed her hand, settled in, and actually listened to Mme. Edwards's stories.

* * *

That night I laid awake in bed. It was so…strange to hold someone so close to me.

I kissed her forehead, brushing some of the golden hair from her face.

"Je t'aime, ma cherie," I whispered. I dared not wake her, though I yearned to see her eyes flutter open, to hear her whisper my name.

This was surely a dream, a beautiful dream. I'd wake up, and she would be gone. I'd be alone with my morphine once more, to drown myself in misery.

But as she shifted next to me, as she breathed a little sigh, I knew that this was real. This wasn't a beautiful dream.

This was a heavenly reality.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, I'm doing this new thing, where I recommend a song to listen to with each chapter. For this chapter it's 'All of Me' by John Legend. This has always been Erik's song for Marie to me, and I think it was perfect for this chapter.**

 **Question of the Week: What is your favorite birthday present(s) you have ever received?**

 **I honestly can't pick. My family and friends know me so well, I love pretty much every birthday present I've gotten equally.**

 **-The Puppeteer Patient 120402**


	32. Chapter 31: Sweet Dreams

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 31: Sweet Dreams

 **Author's Note: I know, I'm awful. However, I'm giving you guys two chapters instead of one. BOOM.**

 **Special thanks to DragonfireOfHope, ishanshafqat774, roses4359 for following TMOTN,**

 **to DragonfireOfHope, Jezabelle31415926, and roses4359 for favoriting TMOTN,**

 **to ishanshafqat774 for following me,**

 **and to Child of Music and Dreams, michellecarriveau, DragonfireOfHope, and roses4359 for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: *high fives you***

 **michellecarriveau: *reads next chapter again* Aw, sorry to ruin your good feeling about this story.**

 **DragonfireOfHope: Um...Next chapter, actually. Happy readings!**

 **roses4359: No, this is not the end. Sorry to leave and make you think that it could be. And, yes, I am still going to write the third book.**

* * *

 _"Some of them want to use you._

 _Some of them want to get used by you._

 _Some of them want to abuse you._

 _Some of them want to be abused."_

* * *

(Marie's POV)

A month after the wedding, something insane and wonderful happened.

I had been attempting to get my corset on, and Erik had been watching in amusement. I was worried; it had never been this difficult to tie it. Was I gaining weight?

"You could help, you know," I snapped at Erik's snicker. He placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Your wish is my command, ma cherie," he grinned, and began to tie the strings with expert precision. I sucked in, hoping that it would help. "I believe that this is the tightest it'll go."

"Try harder," I insisted, gripping the bedpost tightly.

After much struggle, he had successfully tied my corset to my satisfaction.

"Thank you," I muttered, finding it almost difficult to breathe.

"Are you all right, my dear wife?" He was smiling, but his emerald eyes showed his concern. I nodded, lightly touching his unmarred cheek with my fingertips.

"Of course I am. You're with me," I said with a smile and pulled him down and to kiss him, running my fingers through his dark brown hair. He rested his hands on my waist, fingers digging into the rough fabric of my corset. One hand traveled up to play with my hair, gently tugging on it. "I love you," I whispered when we parted to breathe.

"I love you too." He kissed me again briefly, then asked, "What are you going to do today?"

"I had planned a breakfast with Nichole. Then perhaps we'd go to a few shops. And you?" He shrugged.

"Work, as usual," he said with a slight groan.

"Perhaps when you're done," I said, retreating to pick out a dress for the day, "you and I could go to the park." I chose a rich golden gown with shorter sleeves, as the weather was becoming increasingly warm. "Christine might let me watch Gustave, with her rehearsals and whatnot," I added, though I doubted that would happen. Christine was very cross at me indeed for 'stealing' Erik from her. How could I steal him if he was never hers to begin with?

"No, I think I'd rather just you and I go."

"Are you certain? I'm sure that with enough convincing, Christine would…" I turned toward the dressing screen.

"No. Marie, I want you to know that you are enough." He caught me by the elbow, effectively stopping me before I could put on the dress. "It seems to me that you think I only want you to spend time with my son. It's not true." He paused. "Of course, it would be ideal if I could have you both, but you are enough." I kissed him again briefly.

"I know, Erik. And I understand how difficult this must be for you, to not be able to spend time with Gustave without kidnapping him or having me lie to Christine. I want to help you, Erik, but I have no idea how." He studied me carefully.

"You're amazing," he murmured before kissing me. "You're kind…" Another kiss. "Smart…" Another. "Lovely…" Yet another. I giggled. "And utterly perfect." He placed one more kiss on that one spot on my neck. I let out a string of giggles, and he did it again.

"Erik, stop!" I laughed. He looked at me curiously before grinning.

"I didn't realize that my wife was ticklish." He continued doing it, and when I tried to push him away, he gripped my wrists.

"You fiend!" He chuckled. His laugh, which was becoming more common to hear, was musical and enchanting. His happiness was contagious.

I gripped his shoulders, giggling and gasping for breath. He pulled me close, and kissed me on the lips.

"I should go," he said, his voice low. "But if you would cancel your breakfast, I would take a day off…" He smirked as I toyed with his collar.

"As tempting as that is," I began, "I can't. I promised Nichole…" He groaned dramatically, and I lightly hit his chest. "Stop exaggerating. Tonight you'll be away from your office, and I'll be away from Nichole and Meg…" He silenced me with a kiss.

"And I can hardly wait." We shared a smile (and another kiss), and then he left. I finished dressing and fixed my hair and makeup. Erik insisted that I always leave my mask off, even if I was going somewhere. I wasn't anywhere close to being comfortable with that, but I tried for his sake.

I met Nichole at a café (for the life of me, I cannot recall its name).

We chatted about silly things, things Erik likely wouldn't have appreciated me discussing, such as which of his employees we found most attractive.

"So are you two lovebirds happy?" she asked. I smiled, thinking back to that morning.

"Very. Somehow this marriage is different than my last." The Brooklyn native cocked her head.

"How so?" she inquired curiously.

"My love for Erik…and his love for me…it's different than Alexandre's. Our love was more like the kind of love young children share. Innocent and sweet. But it's different with Erik. We have passion and fire. And we have a different chemistry. Sparks flew when Alexandre and I touched, but when I simply _see_ Erik, it's like a whole firework show." Nichole sighed dreamily.

"I know what you mean," she muttered. I raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Who's the lucky man? Have I met him?"

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked with an unease that made me nervous. I nodded slowly, and she leaned in. For the first time since I had known her, she spoke in a whisper. "It's not a guy." My brow furrowed in confusion. "I like girls."

I didn't know what to say. Of course I'd known that there were women who weren't attracted to men, and despite my Catholic upbringing, I was never bothered by that. But the fact that Nichole, one of my dearest friends, was one of those women, for lack of a more accurate word, shocked me.

"That weirds you out, don't it?" she asked, lowering her head. I shook my head.

"No, no. Uh, not at all. But…I didn't think…didn't expect…that you…" To my surprise, my friend laughed.

"That's okay. I know, it's a major shocker. As long as ya don't think different of me…"

"Of course not!" I said quickly. "I just…wow." She laughed again and changed the subject, not allowing me to really linger on that newfound knowledge.

We had been chatting for nearly an hour more after Nichole's confession, and we'd gone to a couple shops when I began to feel lightheaded and dizzy.

"Hey, Rhee, ya feelin' okay?" asked my friend worriedly. I nodded, bracing myself on the nearest wall.

"Yes. Just a bit dizzy. Just give me a moment," I murmured. I found it increasingly difficult to breathe. What was going on?

"I think we should get ya home," she persisted. "You don't look so good."

"Thanks," I said, trying to be playful, but sounding more strained. The world around me was beginning to spin.

"Rhee?" She gripped my arm. "Rhee, come on." My eyes were beginning to close by themselves. "Rhee!"

Nichole crying out my name was the last sound I heard before the world faded to black.

* * *

When I woke up I was in what looked to be a hospital…in a nightgown I knew I hadn't put on myself. What had happened? I was with Nichole…

"Marie?" called a musical voice. Erik. It was Erik.

"Erik." In seconds he was by my side. He bent down to kiss my forehead.

"Are you all right? Mlle. Edwards told me what happened."

"I'm fine…I think. Where's Nichole?"

"She went to fetch your sister. They should be here soon." His tone was calm and soothing, but it held a bit of bitterness. I sat up, and he sat beside me. "The doctor told me it was your corset…that it was laced far too tight, and you were barely breathing. And he also told me the reason for that." He was barely containing his excitement.

Excitement for what?

"And that is…?" I thought I already knew. I'd had a few too many pastries, and it was beginning to show.

How wrong I was.

"You're going to have a baby!" He was smiling that rare smile of his, but I was too shocked to share his joy.

What kind of cruel trick was this? I'd been told by a doctor that I couldn't have children, and yet my husband was telling me that I _could,_ and that I was pregnant.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Isn't this a good thing? Marie, you're going to be a mother!"

"Of course it would be a good thing if it were true," I started. "It's just…impossible. I simply cannot carry a child." He lifted my chin up with his index and middle fingers, his other hand gently stroking my neck.

"But you _are,_ " he insisted.

I wasn't sure that, even if I was pregnant, my child would survive the pregnancy, but I would allow myself this one dream.

I threw my arms around my husband's neck and began to weep.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you." He kissed my cheek.

"No," he muttered into my ear. "Thank _you._ "

Little did I know that my sweet dream would soon become a horrific nightmare.


	33. Chapter 32: Christine

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 32: Christine

 **Author's Note: If you didn't see that I posted a chapter earlier, I'd strongly recommend you go back to read it. Anyway...Yeah. I'm gonna leave before things get nasty.**

* * *

 _"You're so cold,_

 _But you feel alive._

 _Lay your hand on me one last time."_

* * *

(Erik's POV)

My wife was carrying my child.

The knowledge truly had its effect on me about a week after we found out. I ended up waking Marie in the middle of the night because I had been composing music for my unborn child.

Her morning sickness was something to dread, and her mood swings were terrible. I did my best to please her, and for some reason my presence alone could soothe her.

But, if I were to be completely honest, I was terrified of the day that Marie would give birth to the little boy or girl she carried. What if it was born looking like me? What kind of life would it have? When I voiced my fears to Marie, she simply ran her hand through my hair (something we both found I loved) and assured me that everything would be fine, even if it was disfigured.

"Our child, beautiful or not, will be loved. We'll take care of him, Erik." Marie seemed to think that our child would be a boy. I had been counting on a girl.

"Her, you mean," I teased. "We'll take care of her." She smiled warmly, and I couldn't help but think of what a great mother she'd be.

What kind of father would I be?

"A great one," Marie assured me one night when I mentioned this other fear to her.

"Are you certain? What kind of father have I been to Gustave?" I asked harshly. She flinched, and I apologized immediately.

"You didn't even know about him until a few months ago."

"Because Christine didn't think I could take care of him!"

"You hardly gave her a chance, leaving her like that," she said with disdain and…pain? She stood from her place by the fire. "In any case, I am very tired and I think I'll go to bed early." I stood and took her hand before she could go.

Damn. Now she was angry with me.

I pulled her close to me, something which felt slightly different now. Her stomach was larger, though not by much.

"Erik, please. I'm not in the mood." I kissed her, and soon enough she relaxed and returned the kiss. It was when I tasted salt on her lips that I broke away.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's just…I wish it had been me all those years ago. I wish you loved me then like you do now." I wiped the tears from her eyes with my thumb.

"The important thing is that we're together now. I love you to the moon and back, and I know that you feel the same way." She nodded, and I kissed her cheek. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, and mon Dieu, she asked so innocently, so sweetly, that I couldn't even think of refusing her.

"Of course. Anything for you." She sighed softly as I scooped her up, but smiled brightly. And God, was her smile bright!

I carried her up the stairs and gently deposited her onto the bed we now shared. How strange it was for me, a man who had been so alone for most of his life, to have a wife and child on the way!

The white nightgown she wore made her look like an angel. I removed my shoes, socks, and shirt, and Marie smiled again as I slid into bed with her. I took her hand, brushing my fingertips against hers. She

sighed contently, letting her head rest on my chest.

She had only been with me again for a year, and now she was my wife. I recalled a night a few months prior to our marriage when I had been so jealous of Levesque when I saw him holding her one night.

"Time has passed so quickly," muttered Marie. Sometimes I was positive she was able to read my mind. "Have we already been married for four months?" Four months into our marriage. Four months into her pregnancy.

"It's going far too fast," I agreed. I kissed her temple. "Tomorrow night, I want to take you somewhere. Anywhere." She looked at me, those big blue eyes of hers wide with surprise.

"But tomorrow night is Christine's performance. Don't you want to spend that time with Gustave?" she asked. I smiled.

"She's allowing him to stay for the remainder of the summer and every summer after that. I'll have plenty of time with him." She smiled.

"That's wonderful, Erik!" she exclaimed. My name sounded beautiful when spoken from her lips, like a prayer. "How did you convince her to allow that? She was very firm before…"

"I have my ways," I replied simply. She smiled at me happily.

"Still, Erik, I want to be there to support her tomorrow night. Perhaps she and I can make amends before she leaves." I nodded in understanding.

"If that's what you want, mon amour." She smiled sweetly, and my heart melted a little more for her.

LNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLNDLND

The next day, however, Marie was feeling absolutely dreadful. For a while she tried to convince me she was fine, begged me to take her to the performance. But I took one look at her on the bed, thought of the child growing in her, and I called for a doctor immediately and planned on staying with her, even though I had actually been looking forward to that evening. I didn't care much about Christine anymore, but I still adored her voice.

And this was my final opportunity to hear it.

So I was relieved, in a way, that she told me to go.

As I tied my cravat (or rather, attempted to-what had I done before I had Marie?), my dear wife walked behind me.

"Erik?" She whispered my name softly, like a prayer.

"Yes, ma cherie?" I almost told her to get back in bed then and there (perhaps I was a bit protective over her, but was that so wrong?), but I saw from the mirror that she bit her lip, a thing I noticed she only did when she was agitated. I turned around to look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied. "I just wanted to wish you a good time at the performance tonight." She made quick work of tying that difficult cravat of mine.

"Marie, I can tell when you're lying. Tell me what's wrong…I don't have to go." As owner of Phantasma, I actually did, but my Marie was far more important. She forced a smile.

"No, it's nothing…It's silly, really…"

"I don't care how silly. If it's troubling you…" I caressed her cheek with my palm.

"I just have a bad feeling about tonight." I pulled her close to me.

"Oh, Marie, nothing bad will happen. You're safe here with our little baby _girl._ " This coaxed a smile out of her, small and weak though it was. "And you know I can take care of myself if need be." She nodded.

"I know," she murmured. "I love you." I kissed her.

"I love you more," I teased. "Now, you should get back in bed." The smile was just a tad bigger this time, and, assured that all was well, I kissed her one more time before leaving.

I went to the theater alone and decided against visiting Christine before the show, which turned out to be one of my greatest successes. Every seat was filled, every costume tailored to perfection, every performer at his or her very best.

Meg was absolutely wonderful. Antoinette would have been so very proud of her. So would Marie, for that matter.

But Christine…Christine exceeded all expectations, including my own. She sang, I could tell, for me alone. And after the show, after hearing that heavenly voice of hers, I couldn't resist meeting her after the show to congratulate her.

"Erik," she breathed when she saw me.

"Christine, you were positively wonderful. Every note was perfect." A blush crept across her porcelain cheeks, and I briefly recalled that she looked very similar to that years ago when I came to her dressing room after she'd performed in _Hannibal._

"I owe it all to you." Her fingers brushed against my hand, and I pulled it away immediately. "She's very lucky to have you." Her brown eyes were fixed on my wedding band.

"No…I'm the lucky one." Her hand somehow found my chest, and I couldn't breathe. No no no this isn't right. Marie think about Marie Marie MARIE

Before I could tell what was happening, her lips were on mine, and before I could stop myself, I was kissing her back with fervor, my fingers deciding to grasp those chocolate curls of hers.

It was only when we parted, when I opened my eyes, that I saw my wife turning to leave the room, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I pushed Christine to the side and took off after her. How had I let myself kiss her? How had I allowed myself to betray Marie?

"Marie!" I shouted after her. "Marie, please!" But she refused to stop for me. I saw her fling open her sister's dressing room door, but just before I could reach her, it was slammed shut.

"Marie? What's wrong?" I heard Meg ask.

"He…Meg, he kissed her! Like his bloody life depended on it!"

"Oh, Marie…I'm sorry…" she murmured.

"Why would he marry me if he only wanted her?!"

"I don't know. Maybe he has an explanation…"

"She kissed him first, but he returned it passionately. There's no explanation for that." There was silence. People say that they feel a wave of guilt wash over them when they've done something wrong.

I felt the whole damn ocean.

"No," I whispered. The door opened, and Meg appeared, scowling when she saw me. "Miss Giry, please, I must speak with her…"

"Don't you think you've done enough damage for one evening?" I felt a stinging sensation in my cheek as she slapped me. "How can you betray her so easily? Do you enjoy hurting her?"

"I never meant to kiss Christine. It just…" I was interrupted by another slap.

"Meg." Marie stopped in the doorway. "Meg, just go. I don't want you to miss the after-party." Meg nodded and hesitantly left. "You should go to," she said softly. "Kiss a few more girls."

"It meant nothing, Marie, I swear!" I took her into my arms and kissed her in a desperate attempt to earn her forgiveness. She pushed me away after only a few seconds, wiping her mouth. She emitted a soft groan.

"I can taste her on you." With that, she turned to leave. I followed her silently until I could no longer bear the sound of her sobbing.

"Please forgive me! I'm sorry!" I was. I had never felt so guilty about anything, except perhaps the night of the masquerade when I had done something very similar to this.

"No, you're not, Erik! I know you enjoyed every damn second of it! Why am I not good enough for you?" She took a deep breath, looking as though she might speak, but we were interrupted by Christine. At the sight of her former friend, Marie squeezed her eyes shut as though she was trying to will away the horrific agony I knew she felt.

"It's Gustave," Christine panted. Suddenly both Marie and I were brought out of our thoughts.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately.

"He's gone."

"Gone?" Marie echoed. "You can't keep hold of your son?"

"About as well as you can keep hold of your husband, it seems." That was all she could take. I watched with shock as Marie grabbed a clump of Christine's hair and shoved her into the wall.

"Shut up, or I swear to God, Christine," she growled. _Never_ had I seen her so _angry._ But now was hardly the time to dwell on it.

"Ladies, please! My son is missing!" I shouted. Marie reluctantly released Christine.

"Where could he have gone?" asked my wife. Her eyes then widened as if a realization had come upon her. "No…" She began to walk toward the door to leave, but I grabbed her wrist before she could.

"What is it?" I asked her.

"Let me go," she hissed, and I did. "Meg…She was so furious when I told her… _But she won't hurt him…Meg would never hurt him…How could she hurt him?_ " Her voice cracked on the last few words, and I realized where they probably were. The pier. Meg loved to swim, and Gustave had wanted to learn how. He'd follow her without a second thought.

"I know where they are, but we _must_ hurry!" I told them. Marie opened the door and gestured to all of the people outside.

"In that crowd?" she questioned. "There are _millions_ of people out there!"

"My poor Gustave," Christine murmured. Marie sighed and followed me out into the mid night, Christine right behind us.

It was a nightmare trying to find our way to the pier. I kept seeing my son at every turn, but it was never actually him. We called his name into the night, but we didn't find him there.

At last we found them on the pier, standing only a few steps away from the water.

"Gustave!" Christine cried. He smiled brightly at her.

"Mother!" he called back, starting to run out to her, but Meg caught him, holding him back. Nichole suddenly appeared behind Marie.

"No…" I heard the showgirl whisper. "No, I'm too late." What on earth was she talking about? Marie asked her the same thing. "She told me what happened with Christine and the boss after the show." I saw Marie tense at that from the corner of my eye. "She was _so_ mad, Rhee. She hates him for hurting you…I don't know what she'll do."

"Meg," Marie called. "Meg, please, let him go. He's done nothing wrong."

"Yes, little Gustave here is innocent," she agreed. "It's his father who has sinned."

"My father?" Gustave wondered.

"Meg," Marie continued, "I'll deal with him…I'll be fine…Please let him go." She did, and the boy ran into Christine's arms.

"You hurt her so badly so many times, monsieur. I'm so tired of seeing her in pain." She pulled out a gun. "I want to make sure you'll never hurt her again."

"Don't!" Marie cried. "Please don't hurt him!" I looked down at my wife. She _did_ care. Even after what I'd done, she cared.

"Yer not thinkin' clearly. Please, Meg," Nichole said worriedly, "put down the gun."

"I have to do this," she insisted. I felt a cold numbness envelope my body until I couldn't feel anything. I was going to die. But Marie and Gustave would live. It didn't matter what would happen to me if they were all right.

But Marie thought otherwise, I found, as she stepped out in front of me, blocking me from Meg.

"No, you don't. Please put down the gun." She carefully took a few steps toward her sister, and I gripped her elbow to stop her.

"Marie, don't. You could get hurt. The baby…" But she wordlessly pulled away from me and went closer to her sister.

"Please…give me the gun…" She held out her hand. "We can forget this ever happened. Just give me the gun."

"No…" Marie grabbed the gun, and I could only watch the struggle, completely frozen.

"Just give it to me…"

"No! He has to pay!" And then…

-BANG-

I heard my son scream, and I was certain the bullet had hit him. No…It had hit his mother instead. I caught her just before she hit the ground. No, this couldn't be happening. Why was this happening?!

"Marie, go get her help!" I cried. "Go!"

"Papa should be here! Where is he?" Gustave whimpered. I heard Marie speaking to Meg softly, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Marie, I didn't mean to!" Meg exclaimed.

"Shh…I know…"

"Your father," Christine started, "your _real_ father…is here." He looked at me, backing away.

"No…No!" He ran away from us.

"Gustave!" Marie cried, and she and Nichole went after him. I stared at my angel of music, bleeding out in my arms, and I began to weep.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I'm so sorry…Gustave…What am I to do?" I asked.

"Just love him. Give him all you can." I closed my eyes. How would he cope? How would he live without his mother, who had always been there to love and comfort him?

I held her for a few silent moments, forgetting the world around me.

"Erik…" she whispered. God, I could tell it was so hard for her to speak. "Please…Kiss me one last time." I stared at her for a brief moment. And then I did. After a few moments, she stopped responding and went limp in my arms. I screamed at the sky, and I cursed God and Meg for taking her from me.

Marie, Nichole, Gustave, and, surprisingly, the Vicomte de Chagny appeared in the darkness. I looked at Marie, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. And I knew that she had seen.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, yeah.**

 **The song for last chapter was 'Sweet Dreams.' I prefer Emily Browning's version, but to each their own.**

 **The song for this chapter was 'So Cold' by Breaking Benjamin.**

 **Question of the week: Any things you want to happen in Book 3? Erik/Marie, obviously, but anything else? Any characters you do or don't want to see? Plot ideas? I need help!**

 **-Belle (yes my name is Belle)**


	34. Chapter 33: Life

_"Oh, this night is too long,_  
 _Have no strength to go on._

 _No more pain, I'm floating away.  
_  
 _Through the mist I see the face_  
 _Of an angel, calls my name._

 _I remember you're the reason I have to stay."_

* * *

I fought back tears as I watched my husband kiss her again. Nichole was trying to comfort me when a flash of silver caught my attention.

"Meg...Meg, don't you dare!" I shouted as she moved the revolver to her temple.

"Marie, I killed her! I just can't live with myself!"

"It was an accident! You said so yourself!" I argued.

"Ya didn't mean ta do it," agreed Nichole.

"I can't bear it..."

"Come back over here, darlin'. We can talk about it."

"No..."

"Please, Meg..."

" _Leave the hurt behind_..."

"Meg, no!"

BANG

A scream pierced my ears, and I soon realized that it was my own. Nichole and I rushed over to her body.

"How the hell could you do this?!" cried Nichole. "I love you!" This barely registered in my mind as I held her body close.

 _My sister is dead._

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was met with Erik's green eyes. Feeling my blood boil, I stood carefully, passing Meg's corpse to Nichole.

 _My sister is dead and it's your fault._

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I..." Unable to contain myself any longer, I let myself shout and scream at him.

"Shut up! This is all your fault! If you hadn't kissed her, Meg wouldn't have lost her mind, and _both of them would still be alive_!" He lowered his head.

"I never intended for any of this to happen."

"I don't care."

I was angry, so damned _angry_ with him. If he'd remained loyal to me, none of this would've happened. I slipped my wedding ring off my finger and dropped it into his palm.

"Whatever happened to faithfulness, Erik?" I asked him. He grabbed my hand and slid the ring back on my finger.

"I love you!" I looked away from him.

"I can't stand the sight of you." His grip on my hand tightened.

"Let her go, monsieur. Let her mourn," said the Vicomte. I thanked him with a curt nod,and, when Erik released me, I took one look at my sister's corpse. Feeling far too sick to stay there, I ran like hell far away from there until I physically couldn't run anymore. I was vaguely aware of someone behind me, but I ignored them.

At last I arrived at Meg's house. I hurried inside until I reached the , side, and lungs burning,I quickly dialed the number I needed, hearing the mechanical ring.

"Please answer..." I whispered.

"Hello, this is Alexandre Levesque. How can I help you?" I sighed in relief.

"Alexandre..."I began. I heard his breath hitch.

"Marie? Is that you?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, yes, of course! Alexandre, it's Meg...She..." I began to cry again, sobs wracking my body harder than before.

"Shh...don't cry. It'll be all right. Everything will be all right." _No it won't!_ I wanted to scream at him. "Now, what did Meg do?"

"She shot Christine...and then herself. They're dead, Alexandre!" There was silence for a moment.

"Oh my God...Marie, I am so sorry..." He murmured at last.

"And Erik...He kissed Christine. He said it meant nothing, but I can tell that even now he loves her so much."

"I'm coming to Coney Island. I have to help you through this." My lips parted slightly in shock.

"Even after everything-?"

"Of course," he said immediately. "I'm always here for you." The unspoken words of 'I love you' were evident in his soft voice.

"Thank you...You've always been so good to me."

"You deserve the world." He paused. "Call me if you need anything else. I'll purchase a ticket for a ship tomorrow. I hope I'll arrive soon." Me too.

"Alexandre, I..." I saw from the corner of my eye Erik standing in the doorway, looking more hurt than ever. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Goodbye, Marie. If you need _anything_ , I'm here." I allowed a small smile to grace my lips.

"Thank you, ." I placed the phone down and turned to face Erik. "What do you want?"

"Do you plan on returning to him?" He asked, ignoring my question. I carefully considered his. Did I?

"No," I answered after a moment's hesitation. "No, I don't." His emerald eyes brightened ever-so-slightly.

"Then you plan to stay here with me?"

"I never said that," I said softly.

"Marie, it was one kiss!"

"Two."

"Neither of them meant anything."

"Yes, they did! You never do anything unless you mean it!" I paused, taking in a deep breath. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Both Meg and Christine are dead because of a kiss! Do not touch me!" I snapped as he reached out to me. It was then that I felt something move in my stomach. I stumbled back a bit.

"Marie? Are you all right?" I clutched my stomach.

"The baby...it kicked," I whispered, and he reached out to me once again, more nervous than I'd ever seen him.

"M-May I?" he asked. I briefly nodded, and he placed a hand over my growing stomach. I felt another kick, and our eyes met, both of our mouths wide open.

Despite all the death around us, there was still a beautiful life blossoming inside me. 

* * *

**Author's Note: Hi again. I'm just the update queen lately, aren't I? :P The song from this chapter was 'Pale' by Within Temptation.**

 **Hey so, I'm going to leave it up to you guys if the baby is a boy or a girl. Review or PM me, and I'll tally them up.**

 **Also, I'm really sorry for not updating much lately. I've been super busy, and also I just got back a week ago from New York City, which was great. I got some Playbill pajamas, so...yeah.**

 ****

 **Special thanks to michellecarriveau,Child of Music and Dreams, and Guestfor reviewing!**

 **michellecarriveau: Oh, come on! I'm not** _ **that**_ **evil. ;)**

 **Child of Music and Dreams: *hands tissue***

 **Guest: Don't worry, I'm working on it now. :)**


	35. Chapter 34: Aftermath

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 34: Aftermath

 **Author's Note: Hey there, all you wonderful people! Here is the first of three new chapters I'm posting today! :)**

 **Special thanks to michellecarriveau and victoireveela for reviewing TMOTN!**

 **michellecarriveau: Thanks so much! And come on; do you really think I'd write all this only to let them split up?**

 **victoireveela: Well, thanks for sticking with it! Sorry for the sporadic updates; I think I'm sort of on track again. XD Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _"How can I take the pain away?  
_

 _How can I save_

 _A fallen angel, in the dark?_

 _Never thought you'd fall so far._

 _Fallen angel, close your eyes._

 _I won't let you fall tonight."_

* * *

(Erik's POV)

Marie became progressively worse in the days following that dreadful night. She became much more closed off and distant, hardly ever saying a word unless answering a question. Even then her answers were usually a clipped 'yes' or 'no'. Her sister's death took a remarkably large toll on my poor wife, I soon realized.

The day of the funeral was one of the worst of either of our lives. She cried and cried until she ran out of tears, and even then she shook and whimpered. Though that was the final display of any form of emotion I saw from her for weeks.

After the funeral, she stopped speaking altogether, answering only with either a curt nod or a brief shake of the head. It killed me to see my once-vibrant Marie in such a state. I knew that she only ate and drank to keep the baby alive. I also realized that she secretly considered the child growing inside her a curse. She yearned for death, though she'd never admit it.

"Marie," I murmured one night. She, as per usual, ignored me, instead choosing to stare absently at the crackling fire in the fireplace. "Marie, look at me!" She flinched, but met my eyes. I stood from my favorite plush chair and strode over to her. I cupped her face in my hands.

And I saw nothing in her ocean blue eyes. Not life…not even death…Just nothingness.

"What can I do?" I asked her. "What can I do to bring you back to me?" She said nothing, did nothing but stare up at me with those emotionless doll-like eyes. Was that all she was now? A pretty doll who went through the motions mechanically, not living but merely existing? "Damn it, Marie! Answer me!" She flinched again, but forced a smile. It was a painful mockery of her usual glowing grin.

"Nothing, darling. I'm here. I'm fine." Who was this woman? My patience quickly running dry, I gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly.

"Please, Marie, smile, cry, or scream. Love me or despise me! Adore me or curse me! I don't care! Just _do something_!"

"Erik, you know I love you…" I didn't get the opportunity to respond, for there was a loud knock on my front door.

"Excuse me," I murmured, walking away from my uncaring wife. I opened the door and was met with the rather irksome sight of the always-handsome Alexandre Levesque standing on my doorstep.

"Where is she?" he asked immediately. I wordlessly escorted him to the parlor. But the sofa, where she had been curled up like a cat, was empty.

"She must've gone to her room," I muttered. So I led him upstairs to her bedroom. _Her_ bedroom. She had stopped sharing my bed a little over a week prior. He knocked on the door softly.

"Marie?" he called. "It's Alexandre. Please open the…" But it was already opened, and her arms were already around him. I could clearly see the look of love and adoration in his eyes, but at that point I could hardly bring myself to care. If he could bring her out of this terrible depression, then so be it.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked somewhat breathlessly.

"For everything." His hand slid from the small of her back to her stomach, which was becoming more and more enlarged with each passing day.

"You're…?" he began, and she nodded into his chest. I saw the pain flash briefly in his eyes.

"Please come and sit down," she murmured. "I'll tell you everything." I briefly reveled in the fact that she was actually _speaking._ How I had missed the sound of her voice! Levesque glanced at me for permission, and when I nodded, he went in and closed the door, leaving me outside in the hall.

"Tell me what happened," he commanded gently, and I heard her begin to sob. She told him everything from her miraculous pregnancy to the unfortunate tale of Christine's murder and Meg's suicide. "Oh, Marie…I shouldn't have left. I'm sorry."

"Alexandre, there's nothing here for me anymore. God, I just want all of it to be over."

"Marie!" he snapped, the harshness in his usually-soft voice surprising me. "You have more than enough to live for. You have your husband, Gustave, me, your baby…me…" This earned a small laugh from her. An actual laugh! Albeit it was a weak, shaky one, but it was a laugh all the same. "I love you so…I don't expect you to return those feelings or even to accept my love. Just consider me your brother, and I'll be the happiest man in the world." There was a lengthy silence, and I knew they were embracing tightly.

It was at that moment that I realized (with great annoyance) that she needed him. Perhaps not in the romantic sense, but even I could see that he was unspeakably good for her. And so, when Marie had fallen asleep (for the first time in days), I begrudgingly told him just that.

"You're good for her, monsieur. That's the first time she's let herself fall asleep in four days…Are you staying at an inn?" He shook his head 'no,' and I quickly told him to stay there at the house with us. "Stay for as long as it takes, but the moment she's feeling better, I want you out of my house." He nodded slowly in reluctant agreement.

Things gradually got better after that. Marie's nightmares eventually faded away. The life slowly returned to her eyes. Her hair regained its luster, and she began to smile again. She welcomed my touch (and my kiss!) again. She started sleeping in our bed again, and she'd murmur those three words that made me melt each time I heard them from her lips: _I love you._

And God, how I loved her!

While Marie was getting better with each passing day, Gustave, I noticed, was getting far worse. He'd wake up screaming each night, according to the Vicomte. He relived that night each time he closed his eyes.

Speaking of the Vicomte, since Marie was returning to her normal self, and because he deemed himself an unfit father (at least, that's what he said; he truthfully might not have wanted to take care of a child that wasn't his), he gave Marie custody of Gustave. This seemed to be a good thing for all of us, though, Gustave obviously had not accepted the fact that I was his real father. He kept his distance from me, but seemed comfortable enough with Marie. I couldn't help but be jealous of her, that she would have a better relationship with my only son than his father.

I'd just have to do something about that, wouldn't I?

* * *

 **Author's Note: The song for this chapter is Fallen Angel by Three Days Grace. :)  
**


	36. Chapter 35: Our Darkness

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 35: Our Darkness

 **Author's Note: Here is update two of three. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"This will be my last confession.  
_

 _'I love you' never felt like any blessing._

 _Whisper it like it's a secret_

 _Only to condemn the one who hears it_

 _With a heavy heart."_

* * *

(Marie's POV)

My eyes snapped open when the piercing scream reached my ears. Erik was already on his feet, and I was right behind him. Poor Gustave was curled up into a little ball on his bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. I moved to go to him, but Erik stopped me. Knowing he wanted to establish a better bond with his son, I obeyed him.

"Gustave," he began, but Gustave shot out of the bed, and before I could do or say anything in protest or otherwise, he was in my arms, cheek pressed against the soft material of my nightgown. I glanced at Erik apologetically, and he nodded.

"Gustave, love, was it the nightmare again?" I asked, knowing the answer. He nodded, and I scooped him up into my arms, careful not to harm the baby inside me. "Oh, darling, I'm sorry…"

"I miss Maman! Why did she have to die?" I had found myself thinking the same about Meg. Everywhere I looked, I saw Meg, and I wondered why it was her who had to die that night. I gently shushed him and held him until his tears ceased to fall. I heard Erik leave, and I tucked Gustave back in, sitting on the bed beside him.

"Gustave, do you dislike M. Erik?" I asked. He hesitated. "He's your papa."

"No, he's not! My real papa sent me here, and I don't know why!" I sighed softly.

"Raoul de Chagny isn't your father. Your mother…Well, years ago, she loved Erik very much…" He interrupted me.

"Then why wasn't M. Erik with me and Maman all these years? And if he loves Maman, why did he marry you?" The innocent curiosity in his voice didn't help to soothe the sting that his inquiry left in my heart. I had wondered that those past few weeks myself.

"I could answer your questions now, mon petit, but you're far too young to understand. When you're older, everything will make much more sense." He nodded, but I knew the response didn't satisfy him. "If you need me, you know where my room is, darling." I smoothed his hair, placing a kiss on his forehead, and turned to leave. "Good night, Gustave," I murmured.

"Good night, Marie."

When I returned to the bedroom, Erik was sitting on the side of our bed, staring blankly at the wall. I could tell, though, by his furrowed brow and set jaw that he was deep in thought.

"Erik?" He said nothing, didn't even acknowledge my presence. I positioned myself on the bed behind him, gently rubbing his neck. He snatched my wrist immediately, and my heart sank when I saw the guarded look in his eyes. When he saw me, he softened and gently squeezed my hand apologetically. I went back to massaging his neck and upper back. "Erik, I'm sorry."

"What?"

"About Gustave…It's not that he doesn't care for you, I don't think. He simply doesn't understand. It'll be years until he does."

"What do I do, Marie? He can hardly stand to be around me. He adores you."

"He's known me his whole life, darling. I'm the only aspect of normalcy he has in his life right now. Give him time. He'll come around." He turned to look at me.

"And until he does?"

"Love him. Prove to him that you're the wonderful father I know you are." I pulled at the loose white shirt he was wearing. "Take this off."

"Why?" he questioned, and I couldn't help but giggle at the confusion on his face.

"You're incredibly tense, and I want to give you a massage. It'll work better if you're not wearing this ridiculous shirt." He chuckled softly.

"I thought you liked this one." I shook my head.

"Not tonight, I don't." He rolled his eyes and removed the white shirt. I pulled off his mask, which I had only just realized he was wearing. For Gustave, I realized.

"Is everything all right?" came Alexandre's concerned inquiry. He appeared in the doorway, then turned a bright shade of pink when he saw us. Erik immediately put his mask back on. "I…I didn't mean to interrupt…I heard screaming.

"Gustave had another nightmare," I explained, feeling my own cheeks start to burn. "Alexandre, I…"

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you. Good night." He turned to leave, and I began to get up to follow him.

"Alexandre…" But he was already gone, and Erik had me by the wrist, pulling me back onto the bed.

"We can deal with him tomorrow. I'm very tense, Marie." I rolled my eyes, smiling, and went back to massaging him, uttering only one word.

"Mask." He removed it, carefully setting it on the night table. I found it somewhat difficult to look at his back. Scars ran all across it like stripes on a zebra. "Oh Erik…Who did this to you?" I wondered. He reached behind and took my hand, moving it to one long one running diagonal from his shoulder blade to his lower back.

"The Shah of Persia was displeased with my work…" He moved my hand to a series of several long, thin scars on his mid-back. "A gypsy named Javert. He enjoyed beating me in front of eager, paying audiences before revealing my horrible half-face to them. 'The Devil's Child,' they called me." I felt a hot tear slide down my cheek. How much pain had he known? How much more could I bear to hear? "These were from my mother…She had hated me since the moment I was born…but God, how I yearned for her love." He paused. "The rest are from various beatings I've endured in between. Not near so painful." He brought my hand around to his side. "And of course," he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, "the gunshot wound, which was bestowed upon me by our dear M. Levesque." He chuckled, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. All the suffering he'd endured… "Marie?" I squeezed his hand, and brought it to my lips. He sighed at the touch.

He turned around and kissed me gently, his calloused hand caressing my cheek. I held his wrist tightly. I would never, ever let go of him after all he'd been through.

On his wrist, though, I felt something unusual. The skin there was raised slightly in places. At my touch, he let me go.

"Erik," I began uneasily. "Erik, what was that?" He picked up his shirt from the floor and began to put it own. I stopped him. "Erik!" He wouldn't look at me. I gripped his hand and brought it into the light the gas lamp gave out. Sure enough, thin scratches lined his arms, still red and raw. I stared up at him in shocked horror. "What have you done?"

"Since that night, I've been feeling…things…crawling under my skin…" I felt tears begin to sting my eyes. I threw my arms around him and squeezed him tightly. How could I have let this happen?

"I'm sorry," I murmured softly. "You never deserved any of this." He let out a heavy sigh.

"I think I do. I've done terrible things, mon amour, and you don't know most of it."

"Tell me, Erik. I'll love you the same, no matter what you've done." He sighed once more.

"My first murder was the Javert. I killed him and escaped the camp after one particularly brutal beating." I nodded.

"It seems to me that he deserved it. Who could blame you, love? I'd have done the same."

"Don't speak that way, I beg you. You're too good and pure to think of such things. I don't want to taint your thoughts with my darkness." I pulled him down and kissed his cheek.

"I have my own darkness, my own demons to battle. You couldn't taint me, or some such nonsense." He said nothing in reply to that, but continued.

"Next was a little Italian girl named Luciana. Her father Giovanni was a stonemason, and I became his apprentice. His daughter returned from school when summer came, and she insisted that I remove my mask. I did, and she ran from the sight of me and fell to her death from the unfinished terrace that was being built at the time." He let out a laugh I hadn't heard from him in a very long time. It frightened me a little bit. "What bitter irony! I hadn't even intended to kill her!" I was going to say something, but he continued.

"I was good for a while…until I went to Persia. The Shah hired me to build him a new palace." I recalled that Nadir had once told me this. "When he discovered my…talent for killing, I became his court assassin, killing whoever he wanted without asking any questions." Nadir had never told me that. "I don't know how many I killed. I don't _want_ to know."

"Oh, Erik…" He held up a hand as a sign to be quiet, and I became silent.

"Anyone who wandered into the catacombs of the Opera Populaire met a tragic end, and of course, you knew of Buquet and Piangi and those who died in the fire." At the mention of the stagehand, an unwelcome memory resurfaced in my mind. "And, most recently, Christine and Meg."

"It wasn't your fault," I insisted. "At first I thought it was, but Meg…She lost her mind."

"Still, I kissed Christine, which was horrible of me in itself. Could you ever forgive me?" I nodded.

"You know I have." Wanting desperately to change the subject, I said, "Erik, you killed Buquet…I never got the chance to thank you." He glanced back at me in confusion. "He once tried to…well, he touched me inappropriately." I shuddered at the memory.

"What did he do?" Erik asked in a low, dangerous voice. His grip on my hand tightened, and I did my best not to wince.

"I was going to the ballet dormitories after rehearsal one day, and he stopped me, telling me how pretty I was. I tried to ignore him and be on my way, but he grabbed me and slammed me into the wall. He pulled up my skirts…I kicked him in the shin and ran. Erik, I can still feel his hands on my thighs…" He picked me up like I weighed nothing, and sat back down on the bed, setting me gently on his lap. The warmth of his embrace melted away the coldness of the memory, which I felt seeping into my veins.

"I'm sorry, cherie," he said softly. He held me tighter, and I snuggled closer to him. "If I could kill him again…"

"No…No, Erik…"

"I never knew. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to relive it." Erik pressed a kiss to my temple.

"He'll never harm you now. No one will while I'm here to protect you." I kissed his cheek, and he gave me a look of absolute adoration. "I won't let anyone, not even myself, hurt you." He moved us so that we were lying down. "I think it would be best, Marie, if we left Coney Island. This place…it's proving to be an awful environment for you and Gustave. Frankly, it's lost its charm for me, as well." I could only imagine the guilt he felt when he had to pass that damned pier every day he went to work at Phantasma. And once he was there, how could he forget the performances?

"Yes," I agreed. "I rather think we should relocate."

"I was thinking France, perhaps?"

"But you're a wanted man there." He laughed softly.

"Since when has something as inane as that ever stopped me?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: The song for this chapter was Heavy in Your Arms by Florence + the Machine.  
**


	37. Chapter 36: Like the Light of the Sun

The Madness of the Night

Chapter 36: Like the Light of the Sun

 **Author's Note: Last update for now. If you missed it, there are two new chapters that I just posted. Check them out before reading this! :)**

* * *

 _"I must admit you were not a part of my book,  
_

 _But now if you open it up and take a look,_

 _You're the begging and end of every chapter."_

* * *

(Erik's POV)

-Three Months Later-

Much to my annoyance, that Levesque boy _would not leave_. I gave him several subtle hints, but he was either too daft to comprehend my meaning, or he was too obstinate to give a damn. Even Marie seemed slightly put off by his prolonged presence after a few weeks, I noticed (much to my utter pleasure). Even little Ayesha came very close to attacking him on several occasions. When he reached down to pet her, she'd hiss and scratch at his hand, and if he dared sit near her, she'd let out a very low growl. Needless to say, he kept his distance.

If only he would stay away from my other, more precious kitten.

That infernal boy had been _flirting_ with my dear Marie. Of course, I had done more than that when she had been married to him, but that was hardly the point. Luckily, Marie, at any rate, was immune to his charms, thank goodness.

While Levesque remained a thorn in my side, that other whelp had left Coney Island, leaving me to raise Gustave without his interference. I was extremely grateful for this; now I could raise him without the Vicomte telling him what a monster I was.

I had been making preparations regarding Phantasma. I had decided that I would put Gangle in charge of the park until Gustave came of age (assuming he'd even want it after what had transpired on its grounds). He had happily agreed. The same would go for the house. I wouldn't sell it, but I would keep it in good condition should my son ever choose to return.

I waited to buy tickets for passage to France. Marie was eight months and two weeks into her pregnancy now; it wouldn't be good for her or the baby to travel at this point.

Speaking of the baby, Marie and I had yet to agree on a name. For a boy, she had suggested Samuel, Benjamin, Thomas, Franklin, and Jackson. Those seemed too common, though. I preferred Henri, Finnigan, Jonathan, and Edward. For a girl, we could agree on even fewer names.

"Elizabeth?" I suggested. I had always loved that name for some reason. Marie shook her head, golden curls flying violently.

"Too common…Maybe for a middle name…What about…Madeleine?" I inhaled sharply.

"No," I snapped. She flinched slightly. "Absolutely not." Guilty for being so harsh with her when she didn't know, I softened. "It was my mother's name." She nodded in understanding.

"I'm sorry…I didn't know."

"I know, cherie."

We still couldn't agree upon a name, and I began to grow worried that we would have a nameless child.

Lately, Marie's horrible nightmares had returned. It worried me that she was getting them again this far into the pregnancy. If she became too stressed, the baby could be born prematurely. She'd wake up either screaming or crying or both, and there seemed to be nothing Levesque or I could do to console her. She needed to get out of New York, but we couldn't go yet.

One night, I woke up to her soft sobs, and I immediately wrapped my arms around her to comfort her, but she brushed me off. "What was it this time, my love?" I asked. "What did you dream of?"

"You," she whispered. "It was a memory." My heart sank. "I went to the performance to see Meg, despite what you said. I missed her, barely, but I did get to see Christine…She was wonderful, Erik." I nodded, unsure of what I should say. "And you were watching her. Your hands were clutched together as if anxious for her. You stared at her with such intensity, and I couldn't look away from you anymore than you could tear your eyes from her. You still love her." Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. I realized I hadn't spoken much to her about my feelings for Christine.

"No…No, Marie, I don't." I pulled her close to me. My poor Marie. All this time, this had been weighing on her mind. "I love…I loved her voice, and I was proud of her for delivering such a fantastic performance, and I was proud of myself for teaching her so well." I stroked her soft, golden hair gently, and I felt her relax slightly at the touch. "When I kissed her, Marie, I felt pride, adoration, and joy…but not love. And Christine…I sensed her fear. She said she loved me, but I knew otherwise. She felt an odd sense of possession over me for some reason, probably because she had identified me with her father Even if I had won her heart, and she had mine, our relationship would've been doomed." She reached out and took my hand in hers. "Oh, Marie, I'm an awful excuse of a man that I let you think such things for so long." Everything I told her was true, and I prayed that she would believe me.

I could tell that she did as she pulled me closer to her. I caressed her heavily swollen stomach. It wouldn't be long now, until she would be a mother. I could already tell by the gentle way she considered Gustave that she would be positively wonderful. I was still nervous about the sort of father I'd be, but Marie's constant assurance that I would be perfect was calming.

"You, my little girl, are going to have the most caring mother you could hope for. She will love you no matter what you do or what you look like. She'll hold you when you cry and smile when you're happy. She'll do everything she can to make sure you will have everything you need, and so will I." I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her stomach. I met Marie's eyes, and saw that she was smiling sleepily, her cerulean eyes closing, though I could tell she was fighting to keep them open. I smiled and kissed her forehead before closing my own eyes and letting myself succumb to sleep.

"It's going to be a boy," Marie murmured softly, and I smiled again.

 **~LND~**

The next day I wrote to Nadir that we would be going to Rouen, and that I would pay him to ensure that my estate there was still in nearly perfect condition. After all, everything had to be perfect for my new family. I remembered to thank him, for Marie would've been cross if I hadn't.

The day the letter arrived, I had been giving Gustave a piano lesson as Marie and Mlle. Edwards were discussing…something. I have no clue, to this day, what those women talk about. The fairer sex still remains somewhat of a mystery to me.

Levesque was reading the newspaper, and I was secretly willing him to be called away on business or some such thing. My patience with that boy was running thinner with each passing minute.

Suddenly the women's chatter halted abruptly.

"Rhee, honey, are you all right?" Mlle. Edwards asked uneasily. I spun around to see what was wrong. Marie was clutching her stomach.

"The baby's coming," she said, wincing. I was on my feet instantly and at her side within a few seconds. Levesque stood, and before he could say anything, I commanded him to fetch a doctor for her. He left, and I carried her to the bedroom she had occupied not too long ago, when she wouldn't stay with me. "Erik, oh God, it hurts!"

"Hush, cherie. I know, mon amour." Mlle. Edwards and I helped her out of her clothing until she wore only her chemise. I laid her on the bed, gripping her hand. She squeezed it painfully tight, and I did my best not to wince. It seemed as though my wife was much stronger than she appeared. Gustave poked his head in the door. I realized I had just left him without as much as an apology.

"Is Marie okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I'll be fine, Gustave, dear," she managed. "Run along and play…"

"I'll finish your lesson later," I promised. He nodded and left, and she squeezed even tighter.

"Erik, I'm scared."

"I know, cherie. So am I."

"If I don't survive…"

"Shh…You will be fine." The possibility that my darling Marie might die hadn't even crossed my mind. I felt completely sick at the thought of losing her.

"If I don't survive, love him like you love Gustave."

"Her," I corrected halfheartedly, forcing a smile. I had to be strong for her. If I fell apart, how would she be able to bear these pains? She smiled back weakly.

"Kiss me…" I did. I leaned in and kissed her with all I had. At that moment Levesque rushed in with the doctor and midwife. The two of us men were hurried out, with much protest from Marie, Levesque, and myself. Mlle. gave us an apologetic look before closing the door, locking it behind her.

Hours passed, and I had to move. I couldn't sit down and rest, like that damned Levesque boy was doing. I paced the hallway, anxiously waiting for them to open the door. The sound of her whimpers assured me that she was still all right.

I had enough of waiting when I heard her screaming in pain. I banged on the door, but no one would let me in. When she began begging for me to come to her, I couldn't bear it any longer.

"Destler!" exclaimed Levesque. "I want to be in there as much as you do, but your pounding of the door is likely troubling her." As much as I hated to admit it, that infernal boy was right. I stopped and sank to the floor, slumping against the wall. Levesque sat beside me.

"I can't bear it when she's in pain," I muttered. "I want to help her. I _need_ to be in there."

"As do I. I want to be in there with her to hold her hand, but alas. She'll be fine." I glared at him. It was no longer his right to hold her hand. He needed to go as soon as possible.

Just as I was about to tell him so, the screaming stopped. But the hurried sounds of the doctor and midwife, as well as Mlle. Edwards's worried gasp, told me something was terribly wrong. Ignoring Levesque's protests, I kicked down the locked door and saw my beautiful baby lying in its crib. A girl, I realized with a victorious grin.

My smile faded when I saw Marie. She lay on the bed, eyes closed, still as a corpse. I rushed toward her, Levesque right beside me. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt fear freeze my insides.

"Is she…?" I began, unable to finish. The midwife shook her head.

"No. We thought there might be something wrong, but, bless her heart, the poor thing just passed out from exhaustion. Keep watching her, though." I sighed in relief. What would I have done if I'd lost her? I ran a hand lovingly over her forehead and through her hair. Her lovely face was flushed, and a thin sheen of sweet covered her. Her lips were parted just slightly.

I'd never seen her look quite so beautiful.

Deciding it would be best to let her rest, I dismissed everyone in the room, but I stayed. I picked up the baby awkwardly, holding her carefully, as if she might break any second. She was a spitting image of her mother, with bright blue eyes and a small tuft of blonde hair atop her head. But she was as thin as I supposed I had been when I was born. And a strawberry birthmark stretched from her right shoulder to the side of her neck. But she had ten fingers and ten toes, and my God!

She was beautiful.

As I held her, I began to shake with sobs. How had I come to possess such a wonderful gift?

I'm not certain how long I stood there with my daughter, staring at her soft features as she looked up at me curiously. A few times she reached for my mask, and I let her touch it, though she never tried to pull it off of me. I feared the day that she would. She'd be horribly frightened of me, no doubt.

Gustave certainly was.

The child squirmed in my arms and suddenly began crying. The baby must've been hungry. I panicked; whatever would I do? What _could_ I do?

But luckily, that wonderful woman I married regained consciousness upon hearing her child's cries. She smiled when she saw me and giggled at my fearful expression.

"Oh, Erik," she murmured as I gave her the baby girl, "she's so beautiful." The baby's cries grew louder, and Marie emitted another soft giggle. "And hungry," she added. I smiled, instinctively turning away as she lifted the infant to her breast.

"What shall we name her?" I asked when the child was at last satisfied. None of the names we had previously come up with seemed right. Especially now that we were actually looking at the child.

"I haven't the faintest idea, mon amour. What _can_ we name such a perfect child?"

"How about…Morgan?" I suggested.

"Morgan?"

"Yes, Morgan. Perhaps as a nickname we could call her Meg." I waited for Marie's reaction. She'd either love it, or she'd insist upon any other name. But instead she began to cry. I rushed to her side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have suggested…"

"No, it's perfect," she assured me, motioning for me to come closer. When I did, she embraced me tightly. "Thank you. Meg would've loved that." She gave me a sad smile, and I returned it.

I climbed into bed with Marie and little Morgan and, realizing how exhausted my worrying had made me, allowed myself to drift off into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Okay, so, we need to discuss a few things.  
**

 **First of all, the song for this chapter was Never Knew I Needed by Ne-Yo. Not my usual type of song, but when I heard it on the 'Princess and the Frog' soundtrack, this became one of my Erik/Marie songs.**

 **Second, you all are wonderful, wonderful people for sticking with this story even through my inactivity. I do apologize profusely for that; it was never my intention to leave this story as long as I did.**

 **Third, by the next update, TMOTN will be moved to the POTO movie category. I've decided that since I've deviated so much from LND, that it would make more sense to have it with TDOTN.**

 **Fourth, there will only be two more chapters and an epilogue for this story. I'll do my best to have book 3 up as soon as I can, but it may be a few weeks from when TMOTN ends, depending on how much time I have.**

 **Fifth, I suck at covers for my stories. If anyone is interested or knows someone who is interested in making a cover for book 3, shoot me a PM! I'll give all needed information then. :)**

 **Finally, the Question of the Week: Favorite music?**

 **My favorites include but are not limited to My Chemical Romance, Lana Del Rey, Melanie Martinez, Halsey, Evanescence, Breaking Benjamin, Florence + the Machine, Halestorm, and all kinds of soundtracks from musicals (especially if said soundtrack includes Ramin Karimloo!).**


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